


Here Lie the Broken

by addyrobin



Category: Flock - D&D Campaign
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Murder and Resurrection, Non-Consensual Violence, Suicidal Ideation, This is very very very very VERY non-canon, Torture, begging for death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-15 04:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21247649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addyrobin/pseuds/addyrobin
Summary: Rahmi finally makes his way into the inner sanctum. What he finds, and what he receives, is wholly unexpected.





	1. Lie to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case I forgot to tag anything: This is a work based entirely around the idea of a character suffering as much as possible, both physically and mentally, and being pushed beyond his limits. He will spend the majority of this work in pain, suffering, begging for death. He is tortured, beaten violently and without apology, mutilated until he's unrecognizable. This is marked explicit because it is, essentially, nothing but gore. There's a happy ending at the very, VERY end, but it takes a long while to get there.
> 
> And just in case as well, a humble request from the author: This is a work of fiction, made as a safe space for the author to process traumas and distress in her own way, shared mainly for archiving purposes. Please don't pass judgment on me as a person for what I've written here.

It’s an unexpected punishment for being caught breaking into the inner sanctum. One he’d never have imagined, even in his wildest nightmares.

His heart races as one of the killoren stabs at him, again and again and again. It hurt at first, but they gave him some kind of numbing agent, as well as several potions to keep the bleeding down. It doesn’t feel like much now, but he can still feel it when the one currently stabbing him thrusts the blade in all the way to the hilt and stops there momentarily—the pain almost tears him apart.

They pull the knife out without ceremony, their turn finished. But there’s never time to rest here, not anymore.

Someone turns him sideways, shoves his hands away from the new wound. Now they’re curing him, and he can feel the pain from the last near murder ebbing away with the casting. Seconds later something sharp is jammed into his gut, and Rahmi hears himself cry out—mentally though, nothing registers. He’s cold, he’s hungry, he wants to see his friends again but they won’t let him leave here, and he’ll probably never get out again.

At first, he was terrified but thrilled, in a weird way. The elder killoren use their inner sanctum for this, to regenerate their health and sate their bloodlust by very literally beating the life out of others? It was the discovery of a lifetime, and all the proof he and Faoric would need to convince the world of the killoren’s treachery. Imagine his surprise when he was brought here, to the deepest parts of the inner sanctum, and prepared for ritualistic destruction. His first was Rabaian Jodo, so strong and powerful after all his time crafting weapons, but shockingly gentle despite the threats he spat at Rahmi. He’d threatened to tear him to pieces, break his soul and spirit, leave him bloodied and bruised and broken… but when he drew first blood, Jodo had hesitated. It had still hurt as much as any stab with a knife would, but Rahmi never actually received the breaking he’d been threatened with, at least not from Jodo himself. It stunned him, even as he’d been tortured with the knife. He’d taken his first abuse with relative shock and silence, the torrent of information more overwhelming than even the pain.

Truthfully, he’d hoped his first would be Razeiya.

He hasn’t seen his master since he arrived. He wonders if he ever will. It’s not like they don’t know that it was by his machinations that Rahmi got in here. They may decide to keep them separated. What a shame that would be… the thought of never seeing Faoric again is torture in and of itself. Another scream is torn from his trembling body, and he whimpers as another set of hands comes to clean and cure him, prepare him for the next one.

Gods... why this?

He reaches down weakly, attempting to push them away—just let him die, please—but the action is rewarded with a swift whip to his hand with a belt and a forceful shove away. He whimpers, hearing a voice above him snarl.

“How many times do you have to be told to stop resisting?” A hand grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, slamming it against the table where he’s tied, hard enough to make colors burst behind his eyes. Izien. He whines, but it’s quickly muted by her hand against his mouth. “Shut up until I’m finished.”

He can’t actually resist the commands anymore, his body obeying while his mind cries out. The killoren above him digs her claws into his shoulder as she carves into his chest with her other hand, and he whimpers each time she stabs her fingers through his skin. This... it’s not what he wants, but what choice does he have but to let them do it? Izien's been waiting for her turn for a while now, and he can hear her growling with satisfaction as she tears into his flesh with her own two hands, flecks of blood splattering up against her face. He feels vaguely nauseous outside of the numbness, a soft sob escaping him as another killoren stabs him from an angle he can’t see. Izien seems determined to tear him to pieces as much as she can without outright killing him, and there’s not much he can do but accept it as another wave of healing knits his newest wounds back together. He’s nothing more than a conquest to her, and an easy one at that. He wonders if she really takes any thrill out of hunting such easy prey.

He misses his family. Gods, he hopes Thana is safe. The single blessing he’s had in this horrible place is that he hasn’t seen her, but he heard—blessedly—that the human power sources for the killoren weapons are kept somewhere else and treated far differently. Thank fuck. He’s not sure what he’d do if he knew this was her fate too. Probably fall into full insanity.

Izien finally backs down once she’s torn Rahmi up to her satisfaction—the flesh on his chest open in red, raw blooms like a disturbing flower, and his forced silence is torn open with a scream as the one he can’t see comes down to savagely bite at his neck and shoulder, tearing the skin off with a hard yank of the head. It used to matter to him more who was who, but that concern faded with the rest of his consciousness. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or how long it will be until he dies, but he knows that they fully intend to beat the life out of him. It’s how they get rid of their foes AND empower themselves.

He's glad that he didn't leave any way to be traced behind. He hopes that his friends somewhere far, far away, where none of this will ever reach them...

He grunts as the man above shoves his face to the side and starts punching him in the head, hard enough to break the bones. He’s learned what the sensation feels like from the countless times they’ve mended him by now. Rahmi thinks he’s crying again but can’t be sure, the feeling so frequent at this point that it might as well be the same as breathing. Cry and bleed, cry and bleed, forever until he dies.

He hopes that will be soon. 

He should have killed himself when he had the chance.

He looks up at the killoren trying to crack his skull blearily… Oh, it’s Razuun Veis. This is the first time he’s seen him here. Rahmi feels a tiny pang of familiarity somewhere between his heart and his gut, but he can’t find the strength to smile or say anything. He registers that Veis is speaking as he punches him, and pauses to listen—

“...so sorry, Rahmi. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this. You…”

He tunes it out. If he’s not careful, he might react to something Veis says, and Rahmi doesn’t think he could handle it if Veis were punished on top of all of this too. So instead, he closes his eyes—the only bodily function of his that he really has control of at this point—and chokes with sobs as the killoren continues to beat him until he draws blood.

They know every curve, crevice, and weakness of his body by now. It’s easy to make him bleed, cry, scream, whatever they want. He opens his eyes to stare at Veis, breath hitching when someone grabs his shoulder and forces his body up off the table and against Veis’s, his chest pinned to the killoren’s as he wraps his arms around his neck to keep himself from falling. It’s so close to being a hug, but the feeling of getting beaten bloody makes a bit of a mess of that.

There’s a pause—then someone clubs him in the back. It’s got to be Xult. He tries to turn his head just to check, but it’s forced back towards Veis as the second killoren brings his club down against Rahmi’s spine even harder. Again, it used to hurt more, but it doesn’t anymore with the agents they use on him. Xult is strong, though, nearly the strongest of all of them physically, and it’s still a little hard for Rahmi to completely tune it out when the killoren batters him like this. He’s a brute, and while he very rarely appears in here, he likes to take his time in fighting, which is tougher to stomach when Rahmi knows that he’s taking so much apparent joy in beating the life out of him.

Rahmi thinks he might be screaming even though he can’t hear it, and he trembles a bit as Veis grabs one of the knives they’ve got set out—

He remembers when he hugged Veis once, what feels like such a long time ago. They were friends then. He was warm and kind, his hands so gentle as they rubbed his back. It was so soft, so comfortable…

Tears have come to his eyes as Veis stabs him in the stomach, and he sobs aloud as the killoren yanks the blade out and presses his hand against the wound. Veis is still whispering apologies as he finishes the job, shoving his hand harder and harder against the new wound to try and staunch the bleeding without curing it. Rahmi feels a bit sluggish now as the blood pours out...

There’s so much blood. He’s starting to forget what other colors look like.

“Rahmi— I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, it will… it will be over soon, I’m sure.”

Veis may not realize it, but even a request is a command here, and his tears dry up instantly.

Rahmi looks up at him, lip trembling as Veis leans him carefully back into Xult’s arms. Death will be a kindness now, that much is true. He feels himself swallow hard, nods mutely to Veis, and looks over his shoulder to try and see Xult. If anyone can beat the last bits of life out of Rahmi, it’s surely going to be him. He opens his mouth and barely manages to slur out some words—

“Can… you hit me harder…” he pleads, shuddering as Xult presses the club against his legs. “I should… be broken… I deserve it...”

It’s not true, but it will kill him faster.

Xult says nothing, but Rahmi yelps as he’s slammed forcefully back onto the table, crying out in pain as Xult launches an assault against his body, making every hit count. One of his hands holds Rahmi by the neck, choking him as Xult reaches for a dagger and shoves it into Rahmi’s arm. It’s brutal, painful, and yet Rahmi can still hear himself sobbing with relief as Xult stabs him again and again...

He’s so tired. Death is a mercy he craves.

Xult’s drawn the blood he needs, but he keeps beating Rahmi afterwards anyway. Killoren don’t seem to get exhausted by exerting physical effort, which he at one point found extremely fascinating. Now he just sees it as a faster way out of this prison he’s in. He’s so full of wounds now, and there’s no doubt that if he weren’t guaranteed to die here that he’d be suffering an even worse fate down the road. Though… he supposes that it’s impossible now to think of a fate worse than this for himself alone.

Xult pulls the dagger out, holds it in the air for a moment as though he’s finished, and then shoves it right back into Rahmi's chest once he’s let his guard down. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. He asked, for one, and Xult is extremely fond of violating him in every way possible when it comes to these beatings. He remembers the last time he bothered to try listening and responding, hoping to reason with the killoren--Xult played along for a long while, pretending to listen to Rahmi and treating him so sweetly while he made tiny cuts, swearing that it was just to make the others think nothing was happening… then he snapped, tore Rahmi up, mocked him for thinking he could ever free himself from this prison and threatened to give him a fate worse than death. It broke him of that idea all too quickly, and in the end, Xult decided to give him that fate anyway just to teach him a lesson.

He zones out as Xult carves him up for a while, snaps the bones in his arms and legs, heals the wounds, then goes at it again. He’ll probably have to beg for the healing the next time, just as a show of how little control he has here. His eyes fall shut, feeling heavy with exhaustion. He might just pass out again, if they’ll allow it, and wake up in a few hours mid-torture session with someone else. Maybe it’ll be Veis again, or maybe Sechariel… though she seems to find the whole process barbaric, and doesn’t come to hurt him unless she _ has _to, by his observation. It feels like hours must pass between him and Xult as the sounds of violence grow dull in his ears, his fingers falling lax… he can’t move anymore. He can’t think anymore. It’s all getting so dark, so cold.

Dim relief pings at the back of his mind. Is this it? Is he finally dying…?

_ “Cease at once, Xult.” _

An ethereal voice echoes through the room, and Rahmi can't see its origin. Xult pulls the dagger out roughly and drops Rahmi to the floor, and he gasps. No, no, no, they can’t be keeping him alive anymore, he’s got no more life to give, he’s taken his punishment! Why won’t they let him die…!? 

But the voice speaks again—

_“As is customary for his betrayals… Your life shall be taken by Razeiya Faoric, so that he may be forced to view the consequences of his actions with his own eyes as he personally takes responsibility for your death.”_

His heart nearly stops there and then from the shock alone.

Razeiya...?

He can’t move his body anymore, the weight of exhaustion pinning him to the table, but he can just barely see: There, at the entrance to his torture chamber, is Faoric. He looks disgusted, moving to stand over Rahmi and watching him with a disappointed gaze.

Ah. Even in death, he does nothing but fail his master—

“I confess, I believed it would be different this time, Romazi.” Faoric kneels over him, not yet bringing any harm to him. Rahmi looks up at him, confused. It’s a relief to see his face, even if he doesn’t understand what Faoric is telling him… it’s fitting, since he never really did even before this.

“I had thought that with your power, you would finally be the one capable of stopping this horrific process.” He pauses for what feels like an eternity. “I am sorry that I was wrong.”

“...it’s fine.” Rahmi can barely whisper, but his will to die without regrets is stronger than his exhaustion. “I’m glad I got to see you one last time. I missed you.”

“...There is no more place for me to chastise you for your feelings. Speak freely. I will carry your dying words with me.” He stabs Rahmi—and for the first time since he went numb, Rahmi fully feels the sensation.

“I loved you—“ He gasps as Faoric twists the knife, his face pressed against Rahmi’s neck as he leans down to hear his hoarse whispers. “I love you, Faoric. I’ve always loved you, I-I’m always going to love you—“

“Your love has cost you your family, your friends, your very _ life _, Romazi… and yet you would still swear by it?” Faoric’s voice is flooded with disbelief. Rahmi barely finds the strength to wrap his arms around him, pull him closer. He’ll never have a chance like this again, after all.

“Yes. Always. I love you so much it makes my heart hurt.” He sobs as Faoric stabs him again, arching his back into the touch. “It’s the one thing… n-no one can take from me. Not even you.”

“I see.” Faoric falls silent. Rahmi can’t blame him. He gets the feeling anything more said by his master would only break his heart.

“Faoric…” There’s nothing more to fear in speaking his name now instead of his title. He pulls the killoren closer. “I want… I want to hear it, too. Will you lie to me… just this once?”

He can feel the metallic taste of blood rising up in his throat and gags at the sensation as Faoric drives a dagger straight through his heart. Fitting, that... but it doesn’t feel like anything much, oddly. Funny. He’d thought being stabbed through the heart would hurt more. There’s blood all over him now, and all over Faoric, who’s still silent.

“Faoric.” Rahmi urges—his voice is barely a whisper through the blood in his mouth. “I don’t… have much time left…”

“...” The knife rests in his heart, Faoric’s hand still somehow steady despite his actions. He stares into Rahmi’s eyes with a burning gaze, breathing slowly, evenly. Rahmi slowly brings his hand up to the hilt of the dagger, willing Faoric to twist the knife if he won’t speak. The pain of him not responding might be greater than death, in honesty—

“I… love you, Rahmi.”

The words are tense, emotionless, and they don’t sound at all like Faoric means them, feigning understanding of an emotion he’ll never have. To Rahmi, though, they feel like a miracle. He hiccups, coughs as he chokes on his own blood, and sighs with relief. Now… now he can let go.

He shuts his eyes, pulling Faoric’s head down against his shoulder once more. His grip is weak, and his vision is blurry… He plants a soft kiss against Faoric’s hair. His body is so cold… but Rahmi loves him anyway, just as he is.

“Bye… Faoric.”

It’s time to go.

He leans into the sweet embrace of numbness and silence, ready to exhale his final breath—

_ No… _

Rahmi freezes, his nearly still heart suddenly racing. That voice…

_ It is not yet your time. You must survive… Survive and unite us... _

The Voice of the World…!?

No, no, no, it can’t be, not this, there’s no way—

The pain is gone.

His eyes fly open, and he knows in an instant that his wounds have been healed.

Shocked silence is a weight in the room all around him, Faoric still kneeling over him with knife in hand. He stares in horror at the killoren above him, unmoving, unblinking.

He can’t die.

So long as he has the Impetus, Rahmi literally _ cannot _die.

The implications of that are nearly enough to make him throw up. Of all the ways—of all the places to find out…

“Faoric--” His voice is so much clearer now that he’s not choked with blood, no, _no_\-- “Faoric, kill me, kill me again, please, _ please _…”

_ “Do as he says.” _

Oh, no. If his captors are requesting it on top of his own pleas, it _ can’t _ be a good thing. This time it’s quick. Faoric is a practiced killer, and he hardly needs the ceremony of tearing someone to shreds when he can end them in one motion, and Rahmi blacks out almost instantly after the initial rush of pain--

There’s no voice this time, but his resurrection comes regardless.

Faoric’s hands are shaking as he stares down at Rahmi with wide, stunned eyes. His every muscle is tense as he grips the dagger, blinking in disbelief.

“Romazi…” He sounds terrified, maybe even more than Rahmi is. Rahmi can’t think of a time he’s ever heard him sound anything more than mildly annoyed… He slowly, carefully lifts himself onto his feet, Rahmi’s fresh blood dripping off of the dagger and onto his own face as Faoric takes a single step back. He pauses, lowering the dagger to his side, watching Rahmi as his expression slowly drifts back to an even, measured look. He meets Rahmi’s eyes, takes a breath--

“Run.”

The command overtakes Rahmi’s shock, and he finds himself launched to his feet, sprinting for the entryway-- but he’s not quick enough, not strong enough, and Izien has violently launched herself at him before he can try to dodge her, slamming him down onto the floor. He tries to struggle out of her grip, screaming for help as he scrabbles at her arms desperately, unable to break free, terrified of what’s going to happen, frightened by the fact that even _ Faoric _ showed fear-- but even his terror can’t bring him the strength he needs to break out, and he’s dragged back to his table and restrained before he can try to run again. He screams, his throat already going raw from the volume of it, and looks at Faoric desperately.

He hasn’t moved. Of course he hasn’t. They both knew it was useless to try and escape, but Faoric had him try anyway. For whose sake, he wonders? Was this all just another test for Faoric, to try and see if he still had a hope of breaking the killoren’s horrible system?

But, no. Rahmi saw the fear in his eyes. He knows this wasn’t just a test.

They’ve lost their fight against the system, and no one will ever know. Rahmi’s corpse will never be found, because he’ll never _ have _ a corpse. Even if his friends come to try and save him, he knows that now the killoren will never, ever, _ ever _ let him go. A limitless source of power for their immortality, a toy they can never fully break or kill to sate their bloodlust, and all without the mess of having to answer to others in search of missing persons? He’s truly everything they could ever want.

And all he had to do to earn their attention was die. How ironic.

Faoric is walking out of the room, led by another killoren he doesn’t recognize. Now that there’s no need for Faoric to face the consequence of killing him again, Rahmi doubts he’ll ever see him again unsupervised... 

Maybe they’ll get tired of him someday. Maybe they’ll let him go, throw him off the Carrier once they’re done with him so he can never tell his tale to anyone else--

A knife pierces his heart.

No, he guesses he was having too much hope. His mistake, yet again...

He closes his eyes and thinks, with exhaustion, of the smiling faces of his friends.

He thinks, without hope, of the beautiful world they could have had.


	2. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really what all the warning tags are for.

\--- _One Month Ago_ \---

"Please— Why can’t we just talk—Aaagh!!!” 

Rahmi tries desperately to talk between screams of pain, wracked with agony as a blade is driven deep into his stomach. He tries to reach down and tear it out, but the killoren above him simply grabs his hand and  _ twists _ until he feels a pop in his wrist. He sobs, gritting his teeth as he lets his hand drop to the table once more. He can’t even see who’s doing this to him this time, having been blindfolded before they entered. For what reason, he’s not sure, but the one above him seems reluctant to even speak, lest Rahmi hear their voice. He wonders if it’s Faoric, if they’re preventing them from conspiring with each other…

Yet, Rahmi’s almost certain that he’d know Faoric’s touch. He lets his mind drift to that for a while, a small moment of blissful relief from the pain…

What if they’d succeeded in their rebellion? He thinks of standing atop the giant tree of Rominique, kneeling at his master’s side and watching the sunrise as the corrupt government burns below them. In that daydream his sister standing with them, tasting her first breath of fresh air and laughing as they stare into the face of a brand new world, one where no one will ever hurt them again…

The daydreams go on long enough that he doesn’t realize that his silent tormentor has left and he’s alone again. He pulls off the blindfold and sits up, massaging his sore wrist. They didn’t even bother healing him…

Rahmi stands up for a moment, wobbling unsteadily on his feet. He knows better than to try and escape now--the last few attempts have gained him nothing but brutal torture, and even when he DID make it past the door the single time they accidentally left it unlocked, this place was too much of a labyrinth for him to find his way out. He stumbles, instead, over to a rack where they keep healing potions for him and downs one. They don’t like him to stay too beaten up if they think it could kill him, and he’s found that they get very upset with him if he neglects to take potions on his own… which just leads to further, more intense beatings. So he’s decided to just stomach the potions and hope that he can try and reason with the killoren eventually.

He sits back on his table and closes his eyes. He wants to dream that Faoric would know what to say to get them out of this, but if that were the case, he probably already would have done it… Right?

He doesn’t let himself entertain the possibility that Faoric has abandoned him here, shoving the thought from his mind as he lays back down. There’s not much more to do but think and wait for his next session… He drifts back to that daydream of looking over Eyrien from the top of the great tree, successful and happy, his sister in his arms. He imagines Faoric’s voice in his mind, slightly less harsh for once, speaking proudly to him of what their deeds will accomplish for the nation and the world. His friends are waiting below, waving up to the three of them from the center of the street. He calls down to them, yelling in celebration, laughing as Thana pulls him into a tight, warm hug...

The door cracks open some time later, and Rahmi looks up--

Rakhan Xult is watching him from the doorway. It’s the first time Rahmi’s ever actually seen him outside of descriptions, and he cuts quite a strange figure from sight alone. He’s tall, and looks more like he just rolled out of bed than he does the leader of a nation, his clothes torn and tattered and stained… Rahmi notes, with a touch of surprise, the scent of alcohol wafting across the room to him. When Xult finally steps forward, Rahmi shrinks back a bit on his table.

“I hear yer tryin’ to reason with the others to get out.” He steps forward, and Rahmi has to force himself to stay in place, knowing that if he’s anything less than obedient he’ll likely be in a world of pain. “Not the brightest, are ye?”

He’s silent, suddenly terrified. No one has actually spoken to him other than to give him orders or tell him to shut up, much less made an attempt to banter with him. What’s the game here…? But he waits, silent, uncertain… and no more comes from Xult, who is still watching him. Rahmi expects that patience isn’t his best virtue, so he finally speaks up.

“...I just think that you would all understand why I tried to break in here if we could talk.” His voice is hoarse from screaming so much, and when he speaks he feels like he doesn’t sound much like himself. There’s no use trying to tap into the part of him that’s learned to speak properly and politically from Faoric at this point, either, so he continues plainly. “Razeiya and I weren’t doing anything bad, and we didn’t-- well,  _ I _ didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to help him.”

Xult finally crosses the room to his table, and the smell of booze grows more powerful. Rahmi can’t help but be interested, if only because he can’t remember how long it’s been since he smelled anything but the still, blood-tainted air of his torture chamber. The killoren places a hand against Rahmi’s chest, and Rahmi leans back with surprise--the touch is soft, entirely non-violent, and he looks up at Xult with shock.

“I-I can… I can explain everything, if you’ll let me.” The words are coming out faster now, and he tries not to get ahead of himself. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

“Go ahead.” Xult grabs a dagger, and Rahmi instinctively quiets down. The killoren chuckles briefly, placing a hand on Rahmi’s shoulder. “Yer so twitchy! Relax already, would yeh? It’s jus’ to keep their eyes off us. They’ll get suspicious if I’m not cuttin’ yeh up.”

“O-Oh… Okay.” Rahmi tries not to whimper as the dagger pierces his upper arm. “C… Can you tell me where Razeiya is, Rakhan? Is he safe?”

“Explanation first.” Xult digs deeper into his arm, and Rahmi has to grit his teeth to keep from crying… Tears still prickle in his eyes, and he turns his head away. “We’ve got plenty of time, so just start talkin’.”

“Okay.” Rahmi takes a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly nervous about all of this. Xult is helping him, but they’ve never met before this, and he knows that the killoren’s relationship with Faoric was strained at best… So why would he risk himself like this? What if he gets punished, too? Rahmi looks back and forth, hands shaking a little. “But… What if you get in trouble? I don’t want anyone else to get hurt...”

“Don’t tell me yer nervous! What more can you lose?” Xult laughs, and Rahmi shivers slightly. But he’s right--there’s no point in not taking the risk. He’s already hit rock bottom here, after all… Right?

He begins, in a rush, to explain the state of the world--talking as though his life depends on it. Xult keeps cutting at him, more lightly than the other have, and Rahmi hurriedly goes on and on about everything but the Impetus: His friends, his sister, his love for Faoric… He explains the last one as another factor in his attempted break in, and Xult laughs out loud. It’s probably out of pity, but it seems like a good sign that he’s enjoying the story.

“I-I know it’s not something killoren can feel, but...mortals do stupid things for love,” he goes on, his voice still hoarse, but growing stronger now. “I needed to see my sister, and I needed to see for myself that you all weren’t being influenced by that… that  _ darkness _ that’s at the world’s core. And if you were, then… then someone would need to save you all! And, I guess I just thought… I thought it could be me.”

“Now THAT’S a drinking story. Savin’ the world, destroyin’ unseen danger, even threw in some romance. Impressive! Stupid, though.” Xult is laughing, apparently genuinely amused by Rahmi’s lengthy story. While not exactly the desired result, it gives him some hope… Xult has just about torn him up as much as he can with the dagger, but Rahmi bears it in silence. At least he’s not being stabbed outright now, which is a small blessing. “So getting in here was just a mistake, was it? And now yeh want out?”

“Yes!” Rahmi can’t hide his desperation now, encouraged by Xult’s curious tone. “I have to help my friends, I have to save the world, I have to save everyone… I won’t ever tell anyone about this place. I just… I need you to let me go, that’s all. Let me out of here, and I promise, I’ll never show my face in Eyrien again... Please, Rakhan. I-I can try to protect you, too, if you want...”

Xult looks back and forth, surveying the room, and Rahmi’s heart skips a beat. This is it, he’s going to let Rahmi go! Xult sets down the dagger and steps back from the table where Rahmi lays, indicating the door with his head. Rahmi doesn’t waste any time, hurriedly scrambling off the table and rushing to the door. He tries pulling it open but realizes belatedly that it’s locked and turns around to ask for help—

“Do yeh really think I’m that stupid?!”

Xult’s fist catches him right in the head, and Rahmi is sent reeling to the ground. He looks up in stunned horror and barely manages to roll out of the way as Xult brings his foot down on the place where Rahmi was moments ago. He scrambles to his feet, panic overtaking him in the moment as he reflexively reaches for a blade he doesn’t have. The moment of pause is enough for Xult to get in his face again, and Rahmi yelps as the killoren grabs him by the neck and slams him against the wall.

“What kind of idiot would try to free yeh when you’re still  _ right in the middle of enemy territory _ ?” Xult’s fist hits his jaw hard, and Rahmi struggles to try and free himself as the killoren draws back for another punch. “And risk their own necks in the process!? Fat fucking chance!”

“I-I don’t think you’re stupid!” He sobs as Xult’s fist hits his face again. “I-I told you why I did this, I told you what—“

“Yeh expect me to believe that  _ bullshit!? _ ” Xult grips his neck tighter, slams him against the wall a second time. Rahmi’s head is pounding, and there’s a piercing ringing in his ears as he struggles for air. “You can spin a yarn, I’ll give yeh that, but don’t talk like yeh think yer actually  _ noble _ . You’re just looking for an easy out.”

“No, I—“

“Stop  _ fucking talking _ .” Xult throws him, and Rahmi hits the edge of his table hard enough to cut his arm. He struggles to his feet, trying desperately to pull his thoughts together—but Xult is already upon him again, shockingly fast as he picks Rahmi up and slams him on the table.

“Get it through yer skull, yeh has-been knight. No one’s gonna free yeh, no one’s coming to save yeh, and  _ no one _ is stupid enough to let yeh out on their own terms. Yer master’s not here to talk you out of this anymore, and you don’t have the skill to do it yerself. Yer not getting out,  _ ever _ .” Xult meets his eyes. Rahmi can’t stop the shaking in his limbs, his struggle stopped now by fear. 

“Yeh know why they sent me here? To shut you and yer tall tales up fer good.” A fierce, terrifying smile splits Xult’s face. “The others cut yeh up because they have to. But  _ I’m _ cutting you up because I  _ want _ to--and I’ll be taking my damn time.”

He flips Rahmi over suddenly—and before he can even try to ask why, Xult brings a switch down on his back. 

Rahmi screams in pain and tries in vain to flip himself back over, crying as Xult pins him with one hand to stop his movements. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, this wasn’t how—

Xult whips him again and again, and Rahmi’s hands curl into fists as he screams, trying and failing to bear the pain.

“I-I’m begging you, please, I can’t take any more— Gh!!!”

“Every word out of yer mouth is ten more of these, yeh little shit.” Rahmi shivers at his tone, unable to see the horrific smile that Xult had on when he’s facedown like this. Rahmi sobs as Xult drives into him harder and harder, losing count of how many times he’s been hit after some point--but the pain is too intense to try and zone out to his peaceful daydream anymore. He can see flecks of his own blood starting to dot the table when Xult finally stops, his breathing ragged from the force he’s been using on Rahmi.

“Please…” Rahmi shakily shifts his arms underneath himself, trying to rise up from the table just a bit. “Please just… listen to me...”

Xult doesn’t answer, and Rahmi falls back onto the table as the switch comes down again, splattering more of his blood everywhere. He sobs, miserable and trembling as he grips the edge of the table for any kind of support. When it finally stops, Rahmi takes a deep, shuddering breath. “P-Please…”

“Ooh, pleeease listen, Rakhan! I can’t take anymore, waaaah!” Xult mocks him with a high pitched voice. It makes Rahmi want to slap him, but he can’t find the energy to move his body through the pain. “I told yeh what to do if yeh want it to stop. Don’t take orders from anyone but yer master, eh?”

“Shut… up. Don’t talk… about Razeiya-- Ah, ah, ah!!!” Rahmi’s voice breaks as he speaks, and a scream tears at his throat as Xult brings down the switch again. He tries to speak through it, but even his voice won’t obey him as the lashings get worse and worse… It stops again, and Rahmi gasps for air, sobbing too hard to make words.

“Had enough yet? I’m getting bored.” 

Bored!? Even this isn’t enough for him!? 

Rahmi grits his teeth, willing himself not to give up… but what’s the point in fighting? He’s not going to win, and resisting is only getting him beaten even worse. And yet…

“I… can’t… give up…” Rahmi pushes himself up again, trying to get himself to sit. “I won’t...”

“Stubborn. Maybe Faoric picked yeh for a reason after all.” Xult seems slightly impressed, at least. Not that Rahmi  _ wants _ to impress him, but anything he can do to possibly get Xult to respect him a little more is--

Xult shoves him off the table, and Rahmi lands on his back with a heavy, wet thud. He grits his teeth and barely bites back a scream--but it comes out anyway when Xult stomps on his arm. There’s an audible  _ snap _ , and Rahmi screams with desperation at the sudden rush of pain.

“Yeh still don’t get it? I’m here to teach yeh a lesson, not to be yer friend.”

“But I—“

Xult’s foot comes down hard on his face, enough to make Rahmi choke on his words. He thinks his jaw might be cracked for how much it hurts to move it, and Xult won’t let up, stomping down on him again and again. Rahmi’s eyes sting with tears as he tries in vain to stop Xult--grabbing at his ankle, pulling on his shoes--but no amount of force will move the killoren, and he just keeps going until Rahmi stops moving.

“Done yet?” He doesn’t even sound tired.

“No! I-I… I can’t give up!” Rahmi tries to push himself up with his good arm, but Xult kicks him onto his back. “You can’t make me, you have to listen, you can’t just let the world die…!”

“Not my problem if it does or doesn’t, boy.” Xult turns away and walks to the other side of the room where Rahmi can’t see him. He struggles up again, managing to get to his knees with the support of the table.

“It IS though! What about that is so hard to understand!? If the world dies, you’ll die with it! It’s not that difficult to get! Even your masters should have the common sense to know that!” One arm isn’t enough to help Rahmi bring himself back to his feet, so he stays there on his knees, head resting against the edge of his table. “...Razeiya understood. Why can’t you?”

“I’m not Faoric. Glad about it, too! World would already be dead if we had any more of him around, that’s for sure.” Xult reappears, standing over Rahmi and scowling. “Anyway, yer still yammering, and  _ that’s _ my problem.”

“I told you, I’m not going to stop!” Rahmi still can’t pull himself up, so he just tries to make his glare as powerful as Xult’s. “Not until someone listens to me! You have to let me out of here!”

“No I don’t.” Xult knocks him over with another kick, and it only makes Rahmi angrier. Being humiliated like this, on top of everything else…

Suddenly, Xult pulls something out from behind his back, and Rahmi freezes--a club?

“Wait—“ Rahmi holds up his good arm, panic suddenly flooding him, “Why!? That’s not even going to draw blood!”

“Not with that attitude!” Xult laughs hard, like Rahmi’s just told a particularly good joke—

Then the club comes down on his knees. Rahmi screams, feeling both of them  _ pop _ out of their sockets, knocked into angles they shouldn’t be at. He tries to scramble away, but even just trying to move away causes him more pain, and there’s nothing he can do as Xult brings the club down over and over wherever he can hit Rahmi. He screams, still trying to talk, but every time he makes a sound Xult just hits him harder, clubbing him in the stomach to choke him so he can’t speak. It goes on that way for several minutes before Xult finally slows down, staring down at Rahmi.

“Yer only making this harder on yerself,” he comments, looking no worse for the wear. “Yeh believe in yer cause that much?”

“O-Of course I do…” Rahmi replies breathlessly, still trying to pull himself back together. “I-I keep telling you, I can’t give up… My friends need me… Razeiya needs me…”

“Yeh don’t actually think Faoric gives a shit, do yeh!?” Xult laughs again, and Rahmi wishes more than anything that he could just grab the nearest blade and stab him. But he goes on talking, leaning on the bloody club as he grins down at Rahmi. “If yeh really think he’s gonna do anything but find another knight once yer well and dead, yer sorely mistaken.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” Rahmi spits back, eyes burning with tears again. “He said… He said…”

“Lemme guess. He made it seem like yeh were his last chance, right? Tried to make yeh believe that he can’t do this alone?” Xult leans down, staring Rahmi in the eye. “The hell do you think happened to all his other knights?”

“He said they… disappeared…” Rahmi feels dread burning in his stomach and looks away. “They ended up here, didn’t they.”

“Yep. ‘N every time they did, Faoric’s just gone and gotten himself a new toy like you.” Xult stands up, sighing. “Wanted to place bets on how long it’d take  _ you _ to get here, personally.”

“...but he might rescue me…” His resolve is growing weaker by the second as Rahmi tries to process the information, but Xult keeps talking.

“No. Get it through your head: Faoric’s not comin’ to get yeh, he ain’t sending anyone else, and he’s never been in any danger himself.” Xult lifts the club, and Rahmi flinches. “ _ They _ already know he’s not a threat to them, and that’s why they keep lettin’ him get new knights to break. Better that than tryin’ to lock him up and putting him in a place where he could  _ actually _ cause any damage. Plus, it helps us, and helps them too.”

“You’re… You’re lying,” Rahmi whispers, shaking his head. “That can’t be true...”

“There’s no reason for me to lie to yeh.” Xult snorts, setting the club on the table. “Not like yer getting out of here. Better that yeh know the truth before you die, don’t yeh think?”

“Shut up…” Rahmi sniffles, trying to keep his tears in, but now they just won’t stop. “Shut up!!! I know you’re just trying to--”

“Quiet down.” Xult kicks him in the stomach, scowling. “If yer just gonna keep yelling, then we’re gonna go back to what we were doing before. Yeh really want that?”

“It’s better than listening to you!” Rahmi yells, his voice breaking. “You can’t just stand there and try and tell me that everything I’ve done was for nothing! Razeiya wouldn’t abandon me like that! He… He promised me that I was different!!!”

“Yeh think he didn’t make the same promise to every other dead knight he’s ever had?”

“Fuck you!” His vision burns with red. If he could, he’d be choking Xult. “Fuck you, shut up, FUCK YOU!”

“Ugh. I’m gonna need more drink in me to deal with this shit...” Xult grabs the club, and Rahmi screams--not out of fear this time, but out of rage.

The cycle goes on for what feels like hours--Every time Rahmi tries to speak, Xult just batters him further, kicking his face and stomach, stomping on his limbs, sometimes picking him up and throwing him just to emphasize his powerlessness. A blade pierces him more than once, and Rahmi thinks he might be going into shock from all the blood he’s losing--but Xult is quick to heal him and start the process all over again when that does happen. It brings him a weird sense of dissociation--he can hear himself screaming, but the pain is so great that it feels like his mind has left his body for a moment, and he watches as his skin tears and his bones break under the weight of the pain.

“How’re yeh doing, boy?” Xult’s got a shit-eating grin on his face as he stabs at Rahmi, and Rahmi tries (but fails) to glare as he speaks. “A lot of blood yer losing. Think yeh might faint?”

“Nn… No…” Rahmi struggles to respond, his mind racing but his body too weak to even form words. “Never… I’ll never give… up…”

“Good, yer making this a challenge. Let’s keep at it.” Xult leans down to give him a heavy pat on the shoulder, and Rahmi scowls as best he can.

He can still feel himself falling further towards incoherence as Xult stabs him again and again, Rahmi’s blood staining both of their clothes a deep, unsettling shade of red that’s so dark it looks black… It becomes too overwhelming, and in a moment of weakness Rahmi finds himself pleading—

“C-Can’t… If I lose anymore… I’ll die…” he manages, his words slurring together and his voice uncomfortably breathy. It’s hard to keep his eyes open now, too. “Please… No more…Let me rest… ”

“But that’s when it starts getting fun. Wake up.” Xult slaps him, and Rahmi sobs as the force of it shocks him back to awareness. It makes the pain so much more intense as Xult goes back to beating him with blunt weapons instead, breaking his bones and dislocating things… everything is overwhelming, making him feel lightheaded as he tries and fails to move, push Xult away,  _ anything _ …

“Stop…” The wind is knocked out of him as Xult brings his boot down into Rahmi’s stomach. He convulses, unable to speak for a moment, and stares at the killoren as he regains himself. “Stop it… I’m not… I’m not a toy… I’m a  _ person _ … You can’t just do this to people…!”

“I can. Yeh got no worth here, boy, and words ain’t gonna help yeh.” Xult smirks, then looms over him, watching him intently. “But fine. I’ll stop… IF yeh beg for it. Properly, too.”

“I-I…” He can’t be telling the truth. But… what if he is? Can Rahmi really just sacrifice his pride like that, for a  _ chance _ at safety? What would Razeiya say…? “You’re… lying.”

“Doesn’t sounds like begging to me…” Xult taps his foot impatiently--still on his stomach--and Rahmi nearly spits on it with how angry it makes him…

But then… Faoric would never begrudge him for acting in self-preservation. Right…?

“...please.” He stares up at Xult, unable to move his body but lifting his head a bit to meet his eyes. “Please, R… Rakhan. Stop… Stop hurting me. I’ll do anything.”

Rahmi feels like he’s going to throw up, though whether it’s from the pain or the embarrassment, he’s not sure. Xult stares him down, looking unimpressed.

“THAT’S it? That’s all yeh got? Not good enough.” Xult scoffs. “‘N here I heard yer sooo devoted to Faoric, pledging yer head off to him at every chance yeh get. No wonder he abandoned yeh if that’s how piss poor yer speech is.”

Rahmi has to swallow his rage at the commentary, taking a deep breath and sighing as he looks at Xult again.

“Please, Rakhan… I’m begging you to stop. You’ve… proven that you’re powerful. Probably…” He chokes a little on the words, but forces himself to continue. “D-Definitely the strongest of the killoren. Razeiya could n… never compare to such an incredible force like you, and… and I am not worthy of… of even  _ observing _ such a display of your incredible power, much less receiving it…”

“Mhm?” Xult doesn’t sound impressed, but Rahmi doesn’t miss the way his lips are twitching up at the corners.

“I-I’m begging you.” His cheeks are burning with shame, and he looks up at the ceiling instead, unable to keep seeing Xult’s barely contained smirk and laughter. “I-I don’t deserve the attention of such… such an incredible killoren. So… Don’t hurt me anymore.”

“Hm…” Xult nods once, then twice, leaning on the table and staring down at Rahmi. The killoren smirks as he wipes some blood from his face, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Not bad. Not bad at all… Again. More feeling this time, too.”

“A-Again…?!” Horror momentarily wins out over the humiliation, but Xult raises his foot again as a threat.

“I’m not convinced yet, boy.” He grins, and Rahmi feels terror grip his heart in a vice. “Do it again, or I’ll just start stabbing yeh. Yeh don’t want _ that _ , do yeh?”

“...” Rahmi takes a deep breath. It’s this, or he dies, and despite himself he’s just not ready for that. With tears starting up in his eyes, he looks up at Xult again, hating himself for everything he’s saying now—

“Please,  _ please,  _ Rakhan. Don’t waste your energy on someone as worthless as me. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your attention, your power… I-I…”

“Boooring. Gimme the bit about being better than Faoric again,” he comments, still grinning. “I liked that part.”

“Y-You’re… better than Razeiya,” he repeats, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. “He could never compare to you and your strength. You, um…” Rahmi finds himself running out of things to say, panicking for a moment. What the fuck else does he know about Xult?! Razeiya never told him anything, and it’s not like he spoke to him before!

“Go on...” Xult looks unimpressed. Rahmi winces.

“Y-You’re incredible, m-more than Razeiya ever can or will be… I-I’m not worthy of being in your presence. I’m n-not worthy of your power, or of being here! It’s…” He bites back a sob, disgusted with himself for sinking to this. “I-It was my mistake, coming here, but it’s… an honor to be beaten by someone like you, one I don’t deserve…!”

“...not bad.” Xult grins. “But not good enough.”

“Are you  _ serious— _ “ Rahmi doesn’t get to make an argument, the sudden weight of the club coming down hard on his stomach and choking him immediately.

“Can’t wait to tell Faoric what yeh think about him, though!” Xult’s going at him with more energy now, and Rahmi sobs and screams as the killoren thoroughly destroys any hope he had of remaining yet unharmed.

Every time he thinks it’s over, Xult just finds a new way to tear him down. No amount of begging, crying, worshipping, pleading, or screaming can reach him, and Rahmi wishes he could focus on anything else—but all he sees is Xult staring down at him with wild eyes, attacking him in a frenzy every time he so much as breathes wrong. It’s an impossible sort of torture, one Rahmi’s unequipped to handle.

So he screams. But they don’t reach anyone.

Even when Rahmi finally  _ does _ stop talking and screaming, Xult still keeps going, beating Rahmi down until he’s practically an unrecognizable mess on the ground.

“Finally learn yer lesson?” They’re both out of breath as Xult finally finishes, his boot still planted on Rahmi’s face. 

Rahmi feels numb--both physically and mentally. He tries to reach his daydreams of Faoric and his sister, but they’re haunted now, images of Faoric’s emotionless glare and empty office burned into his mind instead, every conversation they ever had about Rahmi being important in any way circling in his mind as he thinks of Xult’s words and his own. He feels so dizzy now that he can’t even remember what he was trying to argue about in the first place… He’s just tired. So, incredibly tired. He can’t even move his limbs now, with how shattered his bones are, so he just lays there, eyes barely open…

Darkness starts to creep in, and he blacks out, Faoric’s eyes still watching him in the darkness of his mind.

...

Rahmi's still in pain when he finally comes to again, and still on the floor. Xult must have healed him, at least, because he’s able to move his arms and legs again… but the whip marks on his back are still open and raw, and he struggles to his feet, his head pounding--

“Where’re  _ you _ going?”

Rahmi flinches as he turns around and finds Xult right behind him, seated on the blood-covered table and reeking once again of alcohol, more strongly now than before. The killoren rises before Rahmi can move away, grabbing his wrist and dragging him closer.

“I-- What-- Why are you still here…!?” Words won’t form coherently, and Rahmi head swims as he tries to move away from Xult.

“I’m not done with yeh, you little brat.” Xult‘s slurring his words and grinning, and Rahmi’s heart drops to his stomach. “In fact, I’m not goin’ anywhere until I’m sure yeh’ve learned yer lesson about talking back and tryin’ to manipulate us.”

“I-I… what…?” He wants to say something that makes more sense, but his mind feels like it’s full of cotton, and he can’t piece together a full sentence. Xult just lifts him up and drops him on the table, still smiling that terrible smile.

“They told me I can do whateeever I want to yeh.” He pushes Rahmi down flat onto the table and laughs, a blood covered dagger held tight in his hand. “Best get comfortable. It’s gonna be just you and me for a looong while, boy.”

“...please.” He’s too weak to think of anything else to say. “Please. Please…”

The dagger pierces his throat.

“There.” Xult smiles. “Now  _ that _ ’ll shut yeh up.”

* * *

By the time another comes, the knight’s mind has gone completely.

“You‘ve done quite a number on him…” They sound mildly disturbed as they stare at Xult’s handiwork. The knight looks up at them from his table, panting and crying, his eyes bloodshot as he slurs out words--

“D… Don’t… No more…” It looks like he hasn’t been healed in a long while, at least not in any meaningful way. There's a huge, still bloody scar across his throat, and his back looks to be a bloody mess, the flesh torn entirely to pieces. The knight holds out a trembling hand towards Xult, pushing weakly at his chest. “No more…”

“That downer Ratheum made‘s fuckin’ incredible,” Xult replies in their direction, clearly amused and clearly drunk as they stab into the young man. “Barely half a dose ‘n he completely broke. Won’t do anything but take what I’m giving him and beg me to stop, and he was threatening to kill me not an hour ago.”

“Impressive indeed.” The killoren blinks as the knight grabs for their hand, pulling them closer.

“Please… Don’t hurt me… I’ll do anything…” He’s barely managing to make the words coherent as he presses his cheek against their hand… It doesn’t seem like the young man even recognizes them in this state. “No… No…”

“Quiet, boy.” Xult snaps, but there’s not much venom to it. There’s blood on the floor all around the table, and it’s clear that they’ve been at this for a while. “Almost feel bad for him. Seemed like he didn’t even care about getting caught as much as he cared about disappointing Faoric and his friends. Kept getting his fight back every time I mentioned it, so I just drugged him to shut his mouth.”

“Perhaps he was already broken before he arrived here, if that’s the case.” They tiredly grab for a knife and plunge it in, no joy in the task for them. The young man cries as they do, shaking his head and shuddering as he tries, without much effect, to pull the knife out. “Razeiya’s been known to do that.”

“Wonder if he’ll still stay quiet when this shit wears off.” Xult grabs a dagger and joins them in stabbing the boy, and they wince as his blood splatters across Xult’s chest. “Guess it’s easy enough to redose him, though.”

“It might be better that way, at least for him.” Despite themselves, they reach down to smooth some hair out of the knight’s face. He’s staring up at them without seeing, probably in shock from the loss of blood and repeated wounding. “At least he’s not as conscious of what’s happening to him this way. The intent should never really be to punish, in my opinion... Some can’t help what brings them in here.”

“Guess so. Not exactly his fault he ended up obsessed with someone who treated him like trash. Least we can do is let him not feel anything at all. Ain’t that right, knight?” Xult gives the young man a tiny pat on the shoulder. He looks up at the killoren, his gaze blank.

“Stop… talking about… Razeiya...” He slurs, drugged out of his mind. He barely even twitches as Xult drives the dagger into him again, just staring at the two of them with dead eyes.

“See what I mean? ...‘S for the best.” Xult plunges the dagger into the young man’s chest. He remains silent.

“Yes… I agree.” They, too, drive their dagger into the knight’s chest. The knight’s looking up at the ceiling now, his breathing staggered as he gasps out a few more words--

“I don’t… want this…” He whispers, hands twitching. “Please… stop…”

“...I’ll leave you to it.” They gently wipe their hands on their shirt and head for the door. A once-proud knight, reduced to  _ this _ in mere hours… Xult has truly outdone himself.

“Alright, you. Time to get back to the real fun…” They hear Xult barking as they step out the door.

“No, no,  _ no _ , no,  _ please _ …”

The door slams shut just as Rahmi starts to scream, and Veis leans against the wall, feeling cold all over after pretending to have no association with the poor knight.

How could they have let this happen…?


	3. Everything Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one follows Chapter 1. Some time after they discover that Rahmi can’t die, Rahmi asks a favor of Veis in one of their one-on-one visits, which can’t be too frequent or his captors would get suspicious—to tell his friends that he died and to not look for his body. It’s a while later that Veis visits him again to speak with him and convey to Rahmi that he did as Rahmi asked.
> 
> Actually not a lot of violence in this one, surprisingly, but intense suicidal ideation and still a bit of suffering and pain.

Rahmi’s hair is getting long again.

That’s the only way he has to judge how much time has passed in this place. Being half nymph, his hair grows faster than most, so the killoren often cut it when it’s getting in the way of their business with him. He’s learned over time to track the passage of time based on how long it’s gotten. It’s to his shoulders now… He estimates it’s been a year and three months now since his capture.

He sits on his table and begins, slowly, trying to braid it. His fingers weave through the matted tangles in it, slowly untangling the knots and clumps in it. He’s been brought water and allowed to wash himself clean lately for his good behavior, which is nice… It’s probably also because they have to use different protocol for him than they would other prisoners, undying as he is.

Mentally, today is one of his good days, but they’re getting rarer. More often than not, all he wants is to finally die in peace, hoping that the killoren will finally get bored of him if enough time passes. Even thoughts of Thana aren’t enough to drag him out of those ruts lately. Death is almost all he thinks about lately, all he dreams about…

He tries to braid his hair and empty his mind, trying not to chase the thoughts of suicide for just one more day...

The door cracks open, and Rahmi obediently lays himself out. It’s easier if he just doesn’t think about it, in all honesty. There’s no point in arguing or resisting, no point in crying, no point in struggling or trying to talk… No point in anything anymore. Sometimes, if he’s good enough, they talk to him of their own free will lately—never about anything important, usually musing on their own to do lists, but it’s more stimulation than he usually gets. It’s a strange arrangement, but one he’s willing to accept given that he’s got nothing else to hold onto in this place.

“Rahmi?”

He knows that voice. 

He looks up, immediately sitting up instead of laying down. “Razuun. Welcome back.”

“Ah... You can just call me Veis, remember? That's alright with me.” The killoren’s tone is gentle, and Rahmi slowly nods, trying to clear his head.

“Veis. Sorry, I just… It’s getting harder to remember lately.” He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to remember what familiarity is supposed to feel like. Everything’s so numb these days… “How long has it been?”

“Four months since we saw each other last. Your hair is getting long…” Veis comments. His tone is so warm, so gentle… Rahmi leans in to his touch as he brings up his hand to pet his hair. “Would you like me to cut it for you?”

“That’s okay. I’d like to wait until it hits my mid-back before I do that… I’m using it to keep track of how long it’s been.” He looks up at Veis, trying to smile… it’s a little hard to remember how to do that, too.

“I see. A fine idea.” Veis offers him a smile in return, and looking at him helps Rahmi remember how to do it himself. He extends his right arm out straight as Veis takes a seat beside him on the table, a thin blade in hand. “Are you ready?”

“As much as ever.”

Of all the killoren who see him, Veis is by far the kindest. They stopped worrying about getting in trouble for talking a long time ago, when both of them came to the realization that Veis’s masters believed that Rahmi had _ stolen _ Istarithai, rather than that Veis had given it to him. It was one of the rare blessings Rahmi thought he wouldn’t get in this place…

Veis doses him with the numbing agent, then drags the thin blade down the length of his right arm, drawing blood. It was scary in the past, but Rahmi’s so used to it by now that he doesn’t even flinch at the sight, instead watching his own blood slide off of his skin and down to the table.

“What’s the weather like outside?” He asks, keeping his voice soft as he leans against Veis.

“It’s been warm, sunny. I get the feeling you would enjoy it.” Veis’s voice is warm, but Rahmi can hear him getting slightly choked up as he speaks.

“I bet the Carriers have gone to all sorts of interesting places now.” Rahmi nods slowly, trying to remember life outside. Eonra is so distant in his mind now, but he can still recall, faintly, a vision of sunbeams cutting through green leaves, lush grass on the ground…

“Indeed. We’ve made some incredible discoveries since you were last out… We've even occupied one of the empty carriers! It's called...” Veis continues talking, but try as he might, Rahmi can’t really focus on his words. The sound of Veis’s voice washes over him instead as he remembers the last time he was outside. His friends were there. They had just finished eating out at a restaurant… He had told them that he’d be back soon.

He’d thought he would be. It was just supposed to be a visit to Faoric, routine as always. But in an unfortunate sequence of events, his hand had been forced. Carrying Zaiphoros, and having forgotten that Veis had put Istarithai in his bag, he’d ended up entering the inner sanctum entirely by mistake when he’d stopped by Sechariel’s office to visit Florian.

It had been all downhill from there, obviously.

He zones back in as he realizes that Veis has fallen silent, and looks down at his bleeding arm.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. It really is hard to focus on other things lately when most of his company is himself. He’s forgetting how to socialize...

“Is something on your mind?” Veis watches him with concern, gently placing a hand over Rahmi’s newest wound.

“...did you tell my friends what I asked you to?” Rahmi looks back at Veis, watching as the killoren’s expression falls.

“I… Yes, I did.” He sighs, sounding reluctant. “But as expected, they didn’t believe me. The youngest one said that she’d have known if you were dead… They began to suspect that I knew more, but as you requested, I told them that the others had thrown you off the carrier the day you vanished, and that I knew nothing more of your disappearance.”

“Good… Thank you, Veis.” Rahmi closes his eyes, feeling his shoulders sink. Just as long as the others don’t come searching for him, it should be fine… most of them can’t even get into Eyrien, so there’s almost no chance that they’ll figure out that he’s even alive, much less where he is.

Well, as long as Faoric doesn’t give them permission to come to Eyrien, but Rahmi thinks that ship sailed a long time ago. He hopes that Faoric doesn’t associate with them anymore…

He’ll never admit it out loud, but his faith in Faoric is waning. It’s been over a year since he was allowed to see him, after all…

“Rahmi.” Veis’s voice gently tugs him back to the present. Rahmi sighs, shaking his head. He should pay attention—there will be more than enough time to lose himself in his thoughts later. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Nothing…” He starts, but Veis gives him a knowing look. It’s just as well… He really can’t hide anything in this place. There’s no point.

“Does Faoric have a new knight yet?” He doesn’t bother with titles anymore. It’s too hard to remember most of the time.

“Aha.” Veis sighs again, and Rahmi looks down. Of course he does. Rahmi never meant anything to him, not the way he meant so much to Rahmi—

“No, he doesn’t. He seems to have put a pause on hiring anyone, at least for the moment.” Veis hesitates, then keeps speaking. “When I took him for a drink some time ago, he told me that it would take him time to find another knight like you.”

“Like me?” Rahmi laughs weakly. “A knight who gets caught at the most important moment? Who fails in every task he’s ever assigned? A knight who’s so stupid that he can’t even die?”

“Please don’t speak about yourself that way.” Veis’s reprimand is gentle but firm, and Rahmi quiets down with a little mumble of assent.

“He said it would take him time to find a knight half as loyal or brave as you, and that he’d prefer not to even try if he can help it,” Veis goes on, gently rubbing Rahmi’s back as he takes the blade in hand again to begin cutting him again. “I don’t think he’s entirely given up on the idea of getting you out of here someday, not the way he had to his other knights.”

“That’s only because I can’t die,” Rahmi whispers, pressing his arm up against the blade. “He didn’t HAVE to think about freeing the others, because they didn’t survive. I’m only different because I’m not like them.”

“You said it yourself. You aren’t like them.” Veis gives him a tiny nudge and smile. “You’ve got to keep some faith, my friend…”

“I’m… I’m trying,” Rahmi admits softly, sniffling as tears start to build up in his eyes. It feels strange… it’s been a while since he cried. “It’s all I can do not to lose my mind in here. I just try and distance myself from my emotions because… because I know that if I don’t, I might… I might…”

He hides his head in his free arm, sobbing aloud. Emotions hurt. He’s been trying so hard to bury them all, the same way he wishes he could bury himself, but sometimes they flood him anyway. He wants to stop them, wants to stop caring about his friends, wants desperately to stop loving Faoric, but he doesn’t know how to. It overwhelms him, and he suddenly finds himself wailing as he tries to stop it all from exploding out of him...

“Rahmi…”

When Veis moves this time, Rahmi actually flinches—not because he’s being hurt, but because Veis has _ hugged _ him. He tries to pull away, but his body actually won’t obey his mind’s commands, and his arms suddenly wrap around Veis as the killoren holds onto him. Veis's body is cold, just like the others… but being in his arms makes Rahmi feel so warm.

“Veis, y-you can’t, what if someone sees…?” He whispers, starting to tremble as more tears build up in his eyes. He hasn’t hugged anyone in so long, but his body remembers, and it won’t stop now that he’s started the motions. He holds onto Veis with all of his might, curling his fingers into the fabric of Veis’s coat. “You… You can’t…”

“Shhh… It’s fine.” Veis’s tone is patient, and it only makes Rahmi cry harder. “Faoric hasn’t stopped believing in you, Rahmi. Neither have your friends… and neither have I. You’ll hold on a little longer for us, won’t you?”

“I-I…” He sniffles, his mind suddenly a tornado of emotion. Everything suddenly feels so much stronger, and he can feel the pain in his arm with sudden force. More than that, though, Rahmi feels his own heart, beating powerfully in his chest… keeping him alive, despite it all. “I-It hurts so much, Veis… It hurts so much!!! I just want to die! I’m n-never going to be the same again, even if you do get me out of here…! It can’t be worth it… I-I can’t be worth saving if I’m not…”

“Shhhh.” Veis soothes him again, and Rahmi sobs into his chest, gasping for breath as more tears roll down his cheeks. “It will be alright. I’m here. I’m right here…”

"M-My friends are gonna hate me...! Faoric will never love me, and Thana probably thinks I've forgotten her, and I just..." Rahmi sobs and sobs, fingers curled tight in Veis's shirt. "I-I miss them so much! I love him so much! My heart feels like it's breaking every time I remember their faces! I can't take this, I can't do it...!"

"I know, Rahmi. I know. Just let it all out." Veis doesn't try and give him false comforts, which Rahmi appreciates. He keeps going, suddenly compelled to just get it out of his system.

"You say Faoric's waiting for me, but I'm just gonna disappoint him again. I-I'm scared, I'm scared to keep going, and I feel like I'm dying inside every time I remember him! I-I love him so much... I hate this! I hate myself!" He's distraught now, crying in an ugly, powerful way, and Veis doesn't interrupt again. "You can't imagine what it's like to feel this way, to love someone _so much_ that it makes your whole body hurt and makes you sick inside, and know that they can't _ever_ give that back to you! It's a curse, a stupid, incurable curse, and I just have to _live_ with that!? Why!?"

"Why do I have to live with this pain on top of everything else? Isn't this suffering enough!?" His fists pound Veis's back, not violently, but just to feel something there. "And my friends--the first friends outside of Thana I've ever had in my fucking _life_\--I had to lie to them, tell them I'm fucking _dead_, just to keep them safe! Do you know how much that hurts, Veis!? I miss them, I'm never going to NOT miss them, I just keep thinking of their faces and wishing that I could run back to them and pretend all of this never happened!"

"It's agony, it's Hell, it's more torture than anything you and the other killoren can do to me here to know that I can't see them again! I don't know how I can keep surviving this! Why can't my heart just give out already!? Why can't the Voice let me die!!!" Veis's hold on him is getting tighter and tighter, and though the killoren doesn't say anything, Rahmi knows he's listening. "It wants me to _survive_. How the fuck am I supposed to _survive_ when living hurts! Remembering hurts! Being cut to pieces and bled dry every fucking day _hurts_! Loving Faoric hurts, remembering my friends hurts, missing my sister hurts, _everything hurts_! Being alive is a curse, and I wish that I'd just fucking died in a ditch so I could be free of all of this! I...!!!"

He lets out a scream of raw agony into Veis's shoulder, wailing and yelling as Veis cradles his weak body close against his chest. The killoren doesn't try to shush him or chastise him, just lets him keep screaming and screaming... soon enough, the screams dissolve to yells, and the yells dissolve to cries, and the cries dissolve to quiet, shaky sobs and bursts of crying that wring him out until he's completely dry of sound and tears. Through it all, Veis never lets him go... Rahmi melts into him as best he can, slowly shutting his eyes as he continues to hiccup and sniffle.

Time passes, and keeps passing. Rahmi’s stopped bothering to count seconds or minutes or hours… All he knows is that Veis doesn’t release him until he’s ready, and it’s a long time before he finally is. When they do break apart, he looks up at the killoren, feeling oddly weightless and sleepy.

“...thank you,” he whispers, his hands still holding onto Veis’s arms. “I… I feel better now, a little bit. I haven’t cried in a while… I guess I needed it.”

“I thought you might. Faoric’s warned me before that it’s a habit of yours.” Veis’s tone is teasing, and Rahmi can’t help but smile—a genuine one this time. The killoren’s expression shifts to one of concern, though, and Rahmi holds onto him a little tighter.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he says urgently. “There’s… there’s so much I want to…”

“I know, Rahmi… I know.” Veis disentangles Rahmi’s hands from his sleeves and holds them gently. “I’ll try not to be so long until my next visit. You’ll wait for me, won’t you? We can do this again next time. Would you like that?”

“Yes. Maybe with... just a little less crying.” Rahmi can feel the numbness starting to creep back in as his eyes sting with dryness. “But don’t put yourself in danger for my sake…”

“I won’t,” Veis assures him, gently leaning Rahmi down until he's laying flat on his table. “Close your eyes, now. Sit a while and listen.”

Rahmi obeys—this time not out of obligation, but because, for once, he wants to. There’s some shuffling from Veis, then a soft, triumphant huff of breath… and he listens as Veis plays a flute in the quiet of his room, the sound of it echoing around the empty chamber. Rahmi lets the sound wash over him, feeling somehow relaxed despite everything… he wonders if it’s bardic magic, but his mind suddenly feels too slow, and his eyes too heavy, to consider it deeply.

He drifts, this time, into a peaceful sleep, the smiling faces of his friends waiting there for him in his dreams.


	4. Unlikely Sympathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less blood and gore compared to other chapters, but still some. I think Sechariel is probably a good person deep down, but she's bound to her oaths and morals just like Rahmi, and that means she's going to have to do bad things.
> 
> Rahmi's got some Stockholm going on.

Today is Rajanus Sechariel’s turn.

Her visits are infrequent, and when she does come, it’s always entirely alone. Despite knowing that it takes two weapons just to get in here, Rahmi’s certain that they must be able to make certain exceptions, or at least have the other party go somewhere else in the sanctum for a while. Sechariel’s rarely spoken to him, even when he tries to speak with her… One of the few times she did talk was to let Rahmi know how barbaric she finds the process of what they do. She had met his eyes, admitted that she was, in her own way, glad for his coming here--if only because it meant that she would only have to keep doing this to a single person instead of countless innocents.

It’s been two years now since that conversation. Four and a half in total since his initial imprisonment.

Rahmi lays patiently on his table as Sechariel stabs at him. She’s kind enough to use the numbing agent on him, at least. Many of them still don’t. He won’t admit it to them, but it still hurts badly when they skip it. He’s not invincible, after all--just immortal.

“Rajanus…” He glances down at his own bloody chest, concerned despite his lack of feeling. He’s figured out exactly how much blood he can lose and where he can lose it before bad things start to happen to him--he’s not exempt from the pain of organ failure, or from choking on blood draining into his lungs… Those things aren’t death. They're just painful. “Can’t you heal me before you keep going…?”

Silently, expression unchanging, she pauses in her efforts and applies a healing scroll to him. It’s no surprise that she requires more bloodshed than the others, locked constantly into an aspect as she is. She’s never actually said that that’s the case, but Rahmi has surmised it himself through observation and careful questioning of those who WILL speak to him. He was surprised to find Ratheum Loroveth as conversational as she was, but he chalks that up to her being a researcher, wanting to get as much information out of him as possible. She’s stated more than once that she’s fascinated by his immortality, and she knows about the story he told Xult… It’s good he didn’t mention the Impetus back then, but he wonders how long he can realistically keep it fully under wraps before he breaks.

…Not that he’s ever felt truly close to broken, actually.

“Sir Romazi.” Sechariel’s voice breaks him out of his trance. He blinks. “You are staring at me.”

“I’m sorry.” He turns his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t let me make you uncomfortable.”

“You are not. It is rare to see you focus in such a manner, however.” She rests the bloody dagger on the side of the table, her eyes glowing faintly as she watches him. “Is there something you wish to share?”

“...actually, yes. A question, Rajanus.” She’s the only one he’ll still refer to with her title, if only because she still uses his. It’s a little strange, given that he’s probably not formally a knight anymore, but he certainly doesn’t want her to stop. Those little reminders of who he once was are all he has to remember his old life by anymore. “It’s been… really, a pretty long time since I got here. I’ve been tortured to breaking more times than I can count at this point, but… my mind’s still clear. I don’t know how I haven’t lost it…”

“Did you…” He pauses for a long time, but Sechariel merely watches as he tries to find his words. “Did you or anyone else cast a spell to preserve my sanity?”

“We have done no such thing.” Her answer is straightforward. “You say that you still feel sane?”

“Yes… Sort of. I don’t feel the way I used to. I don’t feel happy or sad about most things anymore. I spend most of my time thinking to myself, and I think I’m forgetting what outside used to look like. But I don’t feel…  _ insane _ . It’s hard to describe.” He carefully props himself up, just a bit. Sechariel allows it, though her hand does find the dagger again just in case. He can’t blame her.

“I encourage you to try.” Sechariel presses the dagger into his stomach, dragging it downward in a deep cutting line. “If nothing else, it will pass the time.”

“Well… It feels like I’m not showing any of the signs of what I’d consider insanity, if that makes sense. My thoughts still come in order, and I can still talk coherently and make sense to others.” He pauses, looking down at his half-open stomach. “At least, I THINK I can. It’s possible I’m hallucinating the coherence. You might not actually be talking to me, for all I know--”

“You are overthinking, Sir Romazi. We are speaking, and you are coherent.” She pauses, removes the dagger, then plunges it back in somewhere in his chest. “Such speech begins to cross the line of sanity, however.”

“Yeah… Sorry.” He feels a little strange, having a full conversation with her like this, but manages to pull himself back to the point. “That’s kind of what I mean, though. It always feels like… just as soon as I START displaying those signs, they end up stopping. When I feel my mind slipping, it comes back to me. It’s... weird.”

“‘Weird.’” Sechariel sounds distantly confused. “I will admit, most tortured mortals in your position have relinquished their minds, and their lives, far sooner than you. I  _ have _ heard tell from others that you seem less lucid on occasion… but they, too, have noticed that those periods are never for long.”

Rahmi closes his eyes, hearing the  _ squelch _ of the knife being buried in his flesh.

“...I think it’s because I die.”

Sechariel stops stabbing him.

“I-I… It’s just something I noticed. No matter how much I slip, my mind always feels clear again once I resurrect. I think it’s part of my…” He feels suddenly self-conscious and secretive, his eyes darting back to Sechariel’s face ringed with runes as he opens them again. “...my gift.”

“Sir Romazi… I am surprised that you would pass this information to me. Do you feel it safe in my hands?” Sechariel returns to cutting him up. Rahmi shakes his head.

“No. Or, maybe. I’m not sure. But…” He looks up at her and, in a moment of weakness, smiles. It’s hard to make happen, and the movement of his lips feels artificial. “I guess I just wondered if you ever feel like that. You’ve been alive for so long, and you’ve seen and heard so much. You’ve probably done incredible things, but you also come here and do unspeakable, horrible things to helpless mortals whose only mistake was--at least in my case--following orders… Is your mind safe despite all of that, Rajanus?”

“Yes.” Her answer comes quickly, and Rahmi looks down.

“Oh. Okay.” His smile drops instantly, and he stares at the blood running down towards his legs. “...I thought maybe we might be more alike than I thought. That’s all.”

“Because you manage to cling to your sanity through torture?” Surprisingly, she actually doesn’t sound dismissive of him--if anything, it just seems like she’s not following his train of thought. He decides to try again, if only because he doesn’t want the conversation to end.

“Well… Yes, and no. In part, yes, because I can cling to my sanity despite having horrible things done to me, and you have a good hold on yours despite doing terrible things. But also… I realized this while I was talking,” he admits quickly, raising one hand to wipe some stray blood from his cheek, “Also, that we both follow our orders no matter what, even if it means doing things that risk our sanity, our lives, and the faith of the people who believe in us.”

“Your assumptions of my behavior reach far.” Those glowing green eyes flick to his face for just a moment--her gaze empty, haunting, but still somehow full of life. The runes on her hands twist and pulsate as she works at tearing him apart, her silver hair growing unkempt and stray strands escaping the usually neat braid she keeps it in, wavering around her head… 

Rahmi wishes he could blame finding her beautiful on insanity, but he lacks it.

“I don’t have anything else to think about. Sorry.” He lays back, letting his eyes go to the ceiling instead of Sechariel. It’s dangerous to let himself think the killoren beautiful, he knows now. That’s what got him here in the first place, isn’t it? He’s caught himself falling for some of the others more than once now--though usually that’s rectified by resurrection, which he’s thankful for.

“You are staring again.”

“You’re beautiful.” He decides, just this once, not to hide it. Sechariel gives him a flat look.

“Save your affections for Razeiya Faoric, Sir Romazi.”

“Yes ma’am.”

There is silence between them for a long time as Sechariel continues to draw blood from him. He wonders if he’s imagining the glow of her runes getting brighter as he watches her, eventually giving up on the pretense of observation to simply stare at her instead. She casts glances towards his face every once in a while, and he meets her eyes as often as she’ll let him. Even covered in blood and actively working towards his murder, Rahmi can’t ignore the mystic aura that the killoren have.

The dagger cuts his shoulder suddenly. It’s such an odd place to stab that he comes back to focus, finding that Sechariel is looking him right in the eye. It’s hard to pinpoint the emotion on her face at first, but he finally places it as something like pity…

“You and I are indeed similar.” She lifts the dagger… but doesn’t stab him, not this time. “Both bound by oaths that we will follow to our deaths, ones that may hurt or confuse others. However, I truly believe that the oath I have taken will allow me to guide our nation, and perhaps our world, into a brighter future.”

Sechariel hesitates. It’s brief, but Rahmi notices it.

“I am certain you believed the same of your own oaths. In that sense, I can understand what you intended to convey.” She sets the dagger down and watches him, searching his face for something he probably can’t give her.

“I can hardly hold a grudge against you for that, even if I want to.” Rahmi finds a small chuckle escaping him, and he frowns at the feeling of laughter. “Even if you stopped believing in your oath, you’d still have to follow it, just like me. I’d still follow mine, if I could… even if I don’t entirely believe in Razeiya as much as I did before. That’s just how it is.”

“This, again, is information that I am surprised you would leave in my hands.” Sechariel is healing him now, and he looks at her bloodstained robe with remorse. It’s over, then… “...I am also surprised that a mortal could understand how I feel in this regard.”

“If you come see me again soon, maybe I can surprise you more?”

The joke gets a faint, sad smile from Sechariel. “I am afraid I cannot do that.”

“I know.” He sits up once she’s finished healing him, staring at her once again. “Um… Rajanus? I know that you don’t owe me anything, but… Please don’t tell Razeiya what I said, about not believing in him as much anymore. I don’t want him to be upset.”

“Sir Romazi… You have already traded your life, and everything familiar to you, all for the sake of your master. You have the right to lose faith in him now, and none would place blame on your shoulders.” There’s a heavy weight to her words, and Rahmi finds it hard to look at her now. “Not only do I believe that he would have no place to feel displeased with you for his mistakes, but I feel wholeheartedly that even if you tried, you could not truly upset him. The capacity to feel such emotions is difficult enough for a killoren.”

“No, I mean… I-I appreciate you saying that, but I mean that I don’t want Razeiya to be sad.” Rahmi stares at his hands. “I know you just said that killoren’s capacity to feel emotions is different, and all of that, but… I think you’d be surprised. Razeiya often seemed angry when he thought I was becoming disloyal, but more than that… It seemed like it made him tired and depressed, behind all of that.”

“We had something like a fight, once. In the end, when we both apologized to each other, Razeiya admitted that he wouldn’t blame me if I chose to stop serving him, and that he’d let me go in good will. But the way he said it… he just sounded lost at the idea of it.” He looks back up to Sechariel, feeling all at once emotional in a way he hasn’t in a long time. “So many thousands of souls inside of him… but anyone would get lonely if they’d lost so many people to something like this. Right?”

“I cannot pass comment on the emotional state of Razeiya Faoric.” He can’t tell now what Sechariel is thinking, her voice returning to an emotionless monotone… but she finally nods, meeting his eyes. “But I will not share what you have told me with him.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.” They’re wrapping up, and Rahmi knows he doesn’t have much time left with Sechariel… “Rajanus?”

“Yes?” She’s fixing her hair now, and she looks down at him blankly.

“I don’t blame Razeiya for what’s happened to me here. I blame myself. But… sometimes I wonder if I should have listened to you, the day you asked me if I would consider being reassigned to a new master.” He stares at her, watching her expression. “...would you have kept me safe, if I had?”

“Even if you had listened, Sir Romazi, would you truly have broken your faith in Razeiya Faoric?” She smiles faintly, and there’s a distant sadness to her voice. “But yes. To the best of my ability, I would have tried. I do not believe that such suffering is deserved by any single being... least of all one whose only mistake was remaining devoted to the cause he swore his life to, as you said.”

“...thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.” He’s not sure what else to say, suddenly feeling overwhelmed as he looks back at her. She’s right. It’s not like he would have ever given up on Faoric, but…

But…

“Goodbye for now, Sir Romazi. We shall meet again another time.” She’s at the door, now. Rahmi hardly even noticed her moving. He nods, raising a hand to wave.

“Bye, Rajanus… Take care.” He smiles again, meaning it this time. She returns the gesture, meeting his eyes with one last sad gaze… then she’s gone, the door locking shut behind her.

He lays back and stares at the ceiling for a while, eventually closing his eyes.

He hopes she doesn’t blame herself for this.


	5. Freedom Won

Months pass, and then years.

He’ll be 26 this year, though he doesn’t know what season it is, so he can’t say when exactly. At one point he thinks he may have miscounted a month or two, and ever since then it’s been hard to keep track. Veis hasn’t been by in some time, either, so he hasn’t been able to ask anyone. 

He thinks the other killoren might be getting bored of him, but there’s nothing he can realistically do to entertain them. He’s here for one thing--to be a sacrifice--and though he’s tried very hard to speak with them and ask what he can do to be better, more willing, to give them whatever they want, they never tell him. But it’s impossible to miss the lack of interest in their routine visits, how none of them get any sort of thrill out of harming him anymore.

Even Izien’s begun using the numbing agent.  _ Izien _ , the one who’s supposed to care for nothing BUT the hunt! And Loroveth, too, hasn’t shown much interest in him since she realized that he wasn’t going to give up the secret of his immortality--the Impetus. She used to be reliable, at the very least, persistently checking his vitals to study any abnormalities… She also used to be much more violent, but even that has slowly but surely faded away.

He misses them, all of them. Even Xult. He misses them so much that it makes his heart hurt… It makes him want to  _ die _ .

He thought that it was hell before, but this is even worse. Falling so hopelessly in love with his captors, only to have to watch them all lose interest more and more… He knows in the back of his mind that it’s not  _ really _ love, that it’s got to just be a fucked up byproduct of living in torture with them to keep him sane, but it hurts more than he can put into words.

He feels so weak, now. Weaker every day, and depressed on top of it. It’s hard to wake up, hard to move, hard to bother cleaning himself… Everything is difficult, and everything makes him tired. If only he could die from heartbreak.

(But if that were a possibility, he would have died years ago.)

Sometimes, rarely these days, he still dreams. The Voice of the World whispers the names of his friends to him, and his sister’s, and his mother’s, and even his father’s. The floating mask stays with him in a bright, quiet void, simply allowing the time to pass as he sits, stands, stretches, runs, jumps, waits… Sometimes Faoric is even there, watching him, saying nothing, but patient with Rahmi as the knight happily sits beside him or across from him, just looking at him and remembering the time they used to spend together. Times in his office, recounting his last missions, listening to lectures from Faoric, or just sitting in silence together and looking at paperwork… He misses those moments of peace and togetherness most of all.

In those dreams, he feels safe. It’s a short amount of time, but it’s enough to hold him together somehow, and enough to make him forgive the Voice for not allowing him to die yet…

...

He wakes up to the sound of the door creaking open, rubbing his eyes. Someone is here.

“Ah. There you are.”

Not a voice he recognizes immediately. He lays back and lets his arms rest on the table, eyes on the ceiling. It doesn’t matter who it is anymore. It doesn’t matter what they do. Rahmi doesn’t even try anymore--he just accepts his punishment now.

He waits…

...nothing happens.

His eyes flick down to the killoren standing over him. The room is dim right now, so it’s harder to make them out… Something about them is strangely familiar, but he doesn’t recognize their silhouette in the darkness.

“...am I doing something wrong?” he whispers. “There are weapons on the rack to the left, and…”

The killoren just shakes their head, staring down at him.

“Are… you new to this?” Rahmi doesn’t move, feeling strange. Maybe it’s one of the ones he hasn’t seen before, or maybe the one who went into retirement came back, or--

“I was told your mind remained intact, Romazi. Was this information incorrect?”

“... _ Faoric _ _?”_ Rahmi jolts up, the sudden motion making his head swim a little bit. “I-I mean… Razeiya? Am I… I’m not hallucinating, am I?”

His eyes finally adjust to the dark… Razeiya Faoric is staring back at him with calm detachment.

It’s the first time he’s seen Faoric since the day he was first killed years ago… Predictably, he doesn’t look any different than he did then--though he’s wearing a different set of robes than Rahmi is used to. They’re a dark gray color, without much adornment, and Rahmi is a little surprised to find that they don’t even seem to be made of nice cloth… He also glows with the Aspect of the Hunter. Rahmi wonders if maybe he’s here preparing for a descent or something…

Faoric looks him over, and Rahmi obediently offers his arms, thinking that’s what he wants.

“I asked, Romazi, about your state of mind. Do you require healing of any kind?” It takes Rahmi a moment to remember that the Faoric of his dreams is unlike the Faoric of reality, and that the killoren doesn’t actually care about him and won’t sugarcoat things or waste a moment more than he has to on Rahmi. His shoulders sink a bit, and he shakes his head with a bitter, sad laugh.

“No. There’s no point. I’m at death’s door today, anyway. You’ll probably kill me with whatever you end up doing now, and then I’ll be good as new after I’ve revived, mentally and everything.” He stares at Faoric, meeting his eyes. “Not that that matters, honestly. I want to be dead, more than you can even imagine.”

“I see. I apologize, then. I will make this quick.” Faoric draws a blade--Rahmi blinks as he recognizes Zaiphoros.

“Wow. I can’t believe they gave her back to you.” Rahmi laughs quietly, then holds up a hand before Faoric can bring the blade down. “H-Hang on. Can’t you… use something else? I don’t want Thana to hear that.”

“...as you wish.” Faoric sets Zaiphoros down on the table beside Rahmi. As tempting as it is, he doesn’t pick it up--instead just resting his fingers on the cool metal. The runes, surprisingly, are a bright red color instead of Faoric’s usual forest green… Maybe something went wrong with the attunement. But then… even if that were the case, why would Faoric still have it…?

“Thana… if you can hear me, cover your ears.” He doesn’t want to say anything else. If he’s being honest, he never wants to talk to anyone again after how he’s probably disappointed everyone, even his sister… But it still comes out despite himself: “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Faoric returns with a dagger. Rahmi looks up at him, scanning his features… He’s just as beautiful as he was when Rahmi left him, but maybe that’s the insanity kicking in. He’s seriously an idiot if he  _ still _ can’t detach his feelings from all this... But even thinking that, he can’t make his heart stop pounding, suddenly flooded with painful and powerful emotions that he doesn’t want to name.

“Hey. Are you real, Razeiya? Seriously.” Rahmi stares Faoric down as the killoren pushes him down to the table with one hand. He sounds faintly exasperated as he meets Rahmi’s eyes once more.

“Yes, Rahmi. I am real. Now, sit still.”

Once again, Faoric kills him in mere seconds.

Ranmi comes back effortlessly, his wounds healed and his mind repaired, and finds that Faoric has set the bloody dagger down.

“Wait-- Are you going already?” Despite himself, Rahmi feels his heart sinking. Of course Faoric can’t stay. Just because he has to get blood doesn’t mean he would ever be allowed to remain with Rahmi… but even still, can’t Faoric spare him even a moment of his time since he’s here already? Why does it still have to be like this, even now!? “I-I appreciate you making it quick, but can’t you… can’t you stay with me for a little longer? I… I’ve missed you!!! I don’t want you to go!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Faoric notes calmly. Rahmi frowns as the aspect fades from the killoren’s face, but finds his heart fluttering again at the return to familiarity--Faoric’s eyes now the silver shade he knows and loves once more. Faoric looks over his shoulder once more--

“Come.”

“ _ Finally _ !”

Someone has charged into the room and thrown themselves over him. It takes him a second to register the action not as pain, but something more familiar--a hug. His mind moves in slow motion as he attempts to process what’s happening, his eyes flicking down to the person in his arms…

“Rahmi… Rahmi, I’m so glad you’re alive…”

Thana.

“...hey,” he whispers, not to anyone in particular. “Are you…  _ sure _ I’m not dreaming?”

“Rahmi, don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay now… I’m here, I’ve got you…” Thana is crying, her face buried into his shoulder… Rahmi wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. Real or not, it’s still his sister. “You’re gonna be alright… Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

“Thana… As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” It’s reflex. He still doesn’t totally believe that what’s happening is  _ really _ happening, but he can still comfort her. His sister, no matter how illusory, deserves better than just being dismissed. “Don’t worry… I’m strong. I can take whatever they throw at me.”

“No, no, you don’t have to be brave anymore, it’s okay…” Thana pets his hair, and he looks down at her, still confused. “I’m here. I’m here now. We’re together, and we’re both getting out of here. Just be patient...”

“He will require time to readjust, particularly to your lack of absence. Romazi--” Faoric frowns for a moment as both he and Thana look over to him, then a faint smirk alights his face. “An unforeseen complication. Forgive me--Rahmi. Can you stand?” 

“Razeiya… Seriously, what is going on?” Rahmi shakes his head as Faoric eyes him, suddenly feeling strange--this dream is getting a little  _ too _ vivid, even for one brought by the Voice. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“We shall have to explain as we go. If you cannot walk on your own, then someone will need to carry you.” Faoric turns back to the door, stepping aside. “He will need assistance. Enter.”

“Is he able to move at all?” Rahmi very nearly bolts upright at the sound of the voice, stunned anew as Florian Jovault strolls into the room--he, at least, is still in armor just as Rahmi remembers him… He’s grown a bit of a beard, though. Rahmi’s surprised that he would dream of that, but he doesn’t question it as much. “Goodness. This is a lot of blood.”

“All his.” Faoric glances towards Rahmi, eyes narrowed. “Per our deal, I can confidently assure you that no harm has come to your mistress in the process of getting you here, though perhaps now you can see why exactly I found such plans a disservice to my knight… To answer your question, yes, he is capable of some movement--”

“Florian.” Rahmi says it very loudly, and very pointedly. Florian looks back at him as he marches up to the table.

“Rahmi.” He sounds unfazed, and he said Rahmi’s  _ name _ … Yeah, it’s gotta be a dream. “Are you able to get your arms around my neck?”

“Florian?” He says it again, still holding Thana tight.

“...yes? We don’t exactly have the luxury of--”

“How are you here? Why a beard? You look good, but, but--” Rahmi struggles for words for a moment, still a little lost on actually speaking to anyone after so much solitude. He can’t decide on what, exactly, is overwhelming him most, and ends up blurting out--“You’re too handsome! I don’t care if it’s a dream, you’re  _ too handsome _ with a beard, we need to redo this.”

“THAT’S what you’re concerned about?” Florian puts a hand to his face and takes a deep breath. “He’s delusional.”

“YOU’RE delusional,” Rahmi snaps, shaking his head quickly. “I mean-- I mean, you’re  _ a _ delusion, you can’t be real. None of you are real. This isn’t okay. Seriously, I can’t handle this, I’m going to find a way to kill myself as soon as I wake up if  _ this _ is where my dreams are heading, I can’t handle three people I love or am in love with just  _ suddenly _ showing up to rescue me out of nowhere, and one of them has a GREAT beard--”

“In love with…?!”

“Mimi, shhh…!” Thana seems like she’s suppressing some laughter, and Rahmi sighs heavily. Florian looks taken aback. “Please. Just listen for a second. I know you’re overwhelmed, but it’s going to be okay. We’re here to help… Don’t talk about killing yourself anymore, please. Actually, maybe you should just stop talking, I think you’re really embarrassing yourself and I don’t think you mean to.”

“I am certain he will have time enough to reflect on what he did and did not mean to say when he is safely out of this place.” Faoric quickly gestures toward the door. “Sir Jovault, if you would.”

“...right.” Florian quickly returns to an all business sort of attitude. Rahmi clings a little tighter as Thana attempts to remove herself from his arms, and she gently pats him on the shoulder.

“I’ll be right here next to you,” she says gently, squeezing his arm. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Now let… Sssir Jovain?”

“Jovault.” Florian gets an arm under Rahmi’s legs, and he squirms a little.

“Got it. Names aren’t my strong point, sorry. Mimi, let Sir Jovault pick you up,” she instructs with a smile, moving around the table to help Florian lift his torso. He doubts he weighs much, given how he’s starved and bled here. “Wow, your hair’s gotten REALLY long. I’ll help you cut it when we’re safe somewhere, don’t worry.”

“Arms around my neck, please.” Even Florian is being surprisingly gentle with him. Rahmi finally does lift his arms up and get them around, resting his head against Florian’s shoulder as he’s hoisted up. It’s a shock that the other knight would even let Rahmi touch him, but he doesn’t bother arguing with the apparent dream logic. “Thank you. Tell me if I’m pulling your hair at any point.”

“I’ve felt so much worse that I don’t think I’d even notice if you were,” Rahmi says flatly, closing his eyes and laughing quietly against Florian. Resting himself against plate armor is hardly comfortable, but Rahmi supposes that it’s better for his dream to lean towards more realistic. “I want to die… I’m never going to want to wake up from a dream like this, you know.”

“I would place a room like this closer to ‘nightmare’, but I cannot fault you your opinions.” Florian starts walking, and Thana--true to her word--follows along beside him. Rahmi can’t hold himself back, and he keeps laughing as they move, peeking over Florian’s shoulder to watch Faoric following behind him… it just makes him giggle more.

“I fear his mind has been affected after all,” Faoric notes, still calm. “Still, I do not doubt that he can be restored to a better state. He is nothing if not resilient.”

“I  _ AM _ dreaming,” he says louder, more accusatory. “You’re COMPLIMENTING me. Florian is CARRYING me. Thana is… Thana  _ IS _ . This is too much!”

“He seems to be taking offense to me in particular.” He looks back up to Florian, who’s frowning slightly. “Perhaps one of you should…?”

“It’s fine. I bet he’s just overwhelmed because he likes you.” Thana smiles at him, looking pleased. “I was pretty worried about you and Faoric as a match, but you picked a handsome crush after all, Mimi!”

“Florian, I’m not offended, I’m  _ attracted.  _ And Thana, I have a  _ lot _ of handsome crushes, and some beautiful ones, too. Like Aniqe!” Rahmi finally gives in. If he’s going to have a dream like this, he might as well ride it out. “Faoric! Tell my sister how beautiful Aniqe is!”

“I’m not going to do that, Romazi.” If he didn’t know better, he might think Faoric had rolled his eyes. “You can show her yourself, and tell Lameraigne as well, when we are out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a  _ dream _ , Faoric. The least you could do is indulge me--”

They exit the room, crossing the threshold between the door and the rest of the sanctum. He freezes suddenly, arms locking tightly around Florian.

“Mimi?” Thana immediately comes closer to him, resting her hand on his heart. “Are you okay…?”

“We… the door.” Words are failing him again, and he gestures hopelessly at the hallway around them. “We… We went  _ out _ the door. We’re not  _ in _ the door. My… my room.”

“We’ll bring you to a better room. It’s okay. It’s nothing to be afraid of.” Thana tries to soothe him, but Rahmi shakes his head furiously.

“No, no, I… I’ve  _ never _ left the room, not even in my dreams. I don’t remember what this looks like. I can’t be here. I  _ can’t _ be here,” he repeats, suddenly overtaken with panic. “If-- If I get out, they’re going to kill me, they’re going to make everything worse, even if it IS a dream! I can’t be out, I have to be back in, don’t do this…!”

“Miss Romazi. Please calm him.” Faoric looks at his sister, and Thana nods quickly.

“Mimi… I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you look at me?” Rahmi does. Actually looking at his sister in better lighting is strange, and unfamiliar. She looks healthy, her eyes bright and skin glowing, and her long hair is cut nicely and evenly… He smiles despite himself, and Thana nods encouragingly. “There you go. You’re doing great.”

“You look healthy. You look happy…” Rahmi can’t help tearing up slightly. “It’s nice to see you like this… I’m scared, though.”

“I know. But everything’s going to be okay now, just like before. We’ve got each other again, and you have all these new friends now, too. Isn’t that exciting?” Thana’s optimism pierces through his fear, and laughs weakly.

“My friends are going to hate me if they ever see me again, but it’s a nice thought.” Rahmi sniffles, wishing he could wipe his face on Florian’s shoulder, but he doesn’t want to get gunk on his armor.

“Hey, Sir Journey…”

“Jovault.”

“Gah, I’m sorry, I’ll get it next time.” Thana taps her forehead three times as she chants the name to herself, “Jovault, Jovault, Jovault… Sir Jovault, do you hate Rahmi?”

“No. I have concerns for his mental health after the earlier outburst, but I can hardly fault him for making such declarations when he’s not fully aware of himself. It isn’t the first time he’s said something to catch me off guard.” Florian glances down to Rahmi with a faint smile, and Rahmi blinks. “But, I don’t hate him. He makes it difficult to do.”

“Okay, that’s one friend off the list. That’s good, right?” Thana nods quickly. Rahmi looks back to her, watching her features… he sees through the joy in her eyes for a moment, catching the edge of tiredness in her expression and the dark circles under her eyes, how puffy her face is from crying, but she keeps talking, and that makes it harder to focus on his worries. “We’ll ask the others when we’re out, and I’m sure they’ll say the same thing. We’re gonna get through this, and you’re gonna be okay.  _ We’re _ gonna be okay.”

“...how can you be so confident?” He reaches out a hand, and Thana grabs it. “You… You’ve been trapped here for so much longer than I was, and… I don’t know what they did to YOU, but if it was anything like what happened to me, it’s so hard to think that you could be positive after it all… It’s hard to think that you don’t hate me. I didn’t save you. I  _ still _ can’t save you.”

“I could never hate you, Mimi. You gave me hope.” Thana’s optimism doesn’t falter in the slightest, and Rahmi feels himself shaking as she laces their fingers together. “I didn’t go through what you went through, though it still wasn’t pleasant. It was hard, yes, but I never expected it to be easy. Our lives never were… And even then, for a while, I got to listen to you. I got to hear you go on all of those incredible adventures, and I got to know that you were still looking for me, that you hadn’t given up.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted you to find me at first. I was a little upset at you for searching so hard when I’d gone through with all of the vanishing FOR you, and for our family… But I couldn’t stay mad.” Thana sniffles, and Rahmi tries to release her hand to wipe her tears, but she shakes her head. “Ah, shoot. This isn’t the time to cry, I’m supposed to be calming  _ you _ down!”

“Nana… You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, come on.” Rahmi holds her hand tight, blinking away his own tears. “I’m… I-I’m a knight now, you know? I’m strong, I can help now! I can support you, just like you supported me…”

“That’s what I mean, though!” Thana nods quickly, meeting Rahmi’s eyes. “I couldn’t stay mad at you, seeing how strong you were getting, and how determined you were to save us both… I couldn’t give up! If you were that determined just to see me again, then I had to be determined to see you, too. And… look where we are now.”

“In a dream?” he responds, though the sentiment is getting harder and harder to cling to with Thana staring at him like that…

“ _ Together _ .” Thana doesn’t let his hand go, even as Florian starts walking a little faster. “Together again, just like you wanted. Isn’t that amazing, Mimi?”

“...I think I…” Rahmi falters, then laughs weakly. “Gods, waking up from this is going to fucking  _ suck _ .”

“Rahmi  _ Romazi _ !” Thana gasps and lets his hand go suddenly, folding her arms. “ _ Language! _ ”

“...Thana, I’m 26.”

“So? You know I don’t like it when you swear!”

“I’m-- I can’t believe this is what you’re digging your heels in on, Thana, you have  _ literally heard me _ murder people at this point, and  _ me swearing _ is what makes you angry?”

“Murder’s part of your job description. Swearing isn’t!” Thana huffs. “Sir-- Jooo…vault?”

“Yes.”

“ _ Got it _ .” Thana quietly pumps her fist, then looks at him. “Sir Jovault, is swearing in the job description of a knight?”

“I’m surprised that you’re choosing to have this argument right now, but no, not as far as I’m aware.” Florian is looking straight ahead, but Rahmi doesn’t miss his look of extreme confusion. “You two certainly do  _ seem _ related.”

“See? It’s not. You don’t have to swear.” Thana nods sagely, and Rahmi sighs.

“Nana, you’re making Florian uncomfortable.”

“Says the one who confessed his love immediately on  _ seeing _ him, Mimi.”

“Much as I appreciate the levity you have added to the situation, Miss Romazi, I will ask you to save further argument for a later time.” Faoric smoothly cuts in, and Rahmi looks up at him as he comes closer, leading them ahead. “We will soon be out of the sanctum. When that times comes, we will need to hurry--I anticipate Romazi’s friends will not wish to hold the line for much longer. I expect your cooperation--yours included, Romazi.”

“I… yes, sir.” Unsure what else to do, he defaults to servitude. It’s getting harder and harder to tell if this is a dream, or reality, or maybe some final delusions his brain is conjuring up before another death... “But, Razeiya… What about the others? Your… The other killoren?”

“Leave them, Rahmi.” His voice is patient, and Rahmi catches his eye for a moment. “Rest. There is nothing more for you here.”

Rahmi takes a breath, his eyes drifting between Faoric, Florian, and Thana. It’s hard to imagine what else this could be if not a dream… Florian glances down at him to nod, and Thana takes his hand once more, squeezing it gently.

“I will hold on to you, Rahmi, worry not.” Florian’s eyes are straight ahead again, but there’s warmth in his voice. “I would have concerns about causing you nightmares, but you appear to have survived one in your waking life by this point. Enduring that, I am certain even my curse could not kill you now.”

“It’s okay, Mimi. It’s okay.” He closes his eyes at the sound of Thana’s voice, suddenly feeling exhausted. He doesn’t want to let go of this dream, but… “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

His head falls gently against Florian’s shoulder again, and he lets the sounds get farther and farther away…

Dream or not… at least he got to see them again. It’s more than he could have ever asked for.

He finally drifts into sleep, letting the sound of their footsteps take him away.

* * *

Rahmi awakens, but doesn’t open his eyes. What a horrible dream to have. He doesn’t want to wake up now. What would be the point? He aches all over, too, and gets the feeling that no one bothered to give him any numbing agent while he was asleep… 

...but there’s something heavy on his chest.

With a heart full of regret, he cracks his eyes open…

Someone is sleeping on his chest. Not a killoren.

“...Thana?” He whispers it, his eyes darting around. He’s on a bed, and they’re in a room somewhere, but it’s entirely unfamiliar to him. His clothes are clean, too, and they feel comfortable and soft, also unfamiliar. His sister glances up, a drowsy smile on her face.

“Hi,” she whispers. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused. Scared. Wondering if I’m losing my mind to hallucinations after all.” He wraps his arms around her, and she presses her head to his shoulder.

“No. It’s real, Rahmi.” Her voice is soft when she speaks, barely a whisper. There’s a window to his right, and he blinks. It looks like it’s daytime outside. How long has it been since he saw the sun…? “Are you tired?”

“No… Maybe? I don’t know what I am.” He can’t bring himself to let her go, still not convinced that what he’s seeing is real. “It’s daytime out… That can’t be real. I don’t think I remember what the sky looks like.”

“It’s really early in the morning… After everything that happened last night, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be awake yet,” she whispers. “Do you want to go outside and look at the sky? Faoric said it’s safe to be out, as long as we don’t go too far.”

“Where are we? Where’s Faoric?” He stares at the window, fearing that she’ll vanish if he looks at her for too long. “What happened last night?”

“We’re on-- Wait, you wouldn’t know it by name, actually. We’re on one of the uninhabited carriers, the Manta Ray, but it’s… not really uninhabited anymore. There are so many more people now, Mimi. The Flock picked them up a few years ago, and they made new cities, new lives... Faoric’s not here right now, I think, but he said we’d be able to reach him once you’re up. He said he’ll want to speak with you, but only once you’re ready.” Thana’s speaking slowly, making an effort to ensure he understands. He finally looks at her, meeting her eyes. “Things have changed a lot, Rahmi… But I’m here. I can help you understand everything, so don’t worry.”

“...I want to go outside,” he finally whispers, his hands starting to shake. “And then you can tell me more.”

“Okay. I’ll help you up… Just make sure we’re quiet so we don’t wake anyone up.”

Thana slides off of him and gently, so gently, takes hold of his arms and gets him to a sitting position… He finds his footing slowly, carefully, shocked by the feeling of clean wood underneath his feet. They make their way out of the small room Rahmi’s been sleeping in, quietly tip-toeing through the hall together, just like they used to when they were younger to sneak out without bothering their parents.

He catches sight of people sleeping on couches as they pass through one room--he freezes up upon realizing that one of them is Buckley… She’s no child anymore, but he’d recognize that red scarf anywhere. Estrella is on the floor, and Rahmi notes with warmth that she’s proudly sporting a hero badge, pinned right at the center of her chest… Both of them are sleeping deeply. Rahmi can see marks of battle on both of them, but they don’t seem horribly injured, all things considered...

Thana hurries him forward, and he follows her, feeling overwhelmed all over again at the sight of anyone he knows.

“Here.” They reach the front door. Thana pushes it open, and Rahmi is stunned to find that he can actually see outside of it--no white void, no Voice of the World. Just the outside. He takes a step forward… Then starts walking, then running, until he’s a few yards from the house, and drops to his knees.

The sky is a beautiful, bright blue with a slight tint of pink at the edges, and full of wispy white clouds that move slowly away from the carrier as it ambles forward through the sky. No one is outside that he can see, but even if they were, he wouldn’t try to hide how he’s feeling now. Tears start to burn in his eyes all over again as the cool outside air hits his face. It tastes so clean, so  _ fresh _ , and he takes deep, desperate breaths, fearing that it’s all going to vanish at any moment--

Thana drops down beside him, wrapping her arms around him once again. “We’re free, Mimi. Everything’s okay now.”

“How… How…?” Rahmi wipes at his eyes, but the tears won’t stop. “Is this really… Is this  _ real _ ?”

“Yes.” Thana holds him tighter, and Rahmi grabs at her wrists, holding them fiercely. “It’s really, really real. I wouldn’t lie to you. ...Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

“Please. Anything to…  _ explain _ this. I’m… I’m so overwhelmed,” he whispers, eyes on the bright sky above them.

“Just listen to my voice…” Thana speaks softly, gently, and Rahmi leans against her as she starts whispering. “Four years ago, your friends found a way to rescue me… But only me. They thought you were dead, and there was no way for Faoric--or anyone--to tell them the truth, not even inside. He literally couldn’t speak of it, and I didn’t know anything. They couldn’t find you, and there wasn’t any time for them to look… So they took me and escaped. I could never believe you were dead--it didn’t  _ feel _ like you were dead in my heart--but I didn’t know what else to do, so… I just kept on living, and hoping that something would happen someday.”

“It wasn’t until last year that something changed.” Rahmi looks down to find his sister smiling back at him. “You were right to stay with Faoric all that time. Even forced to keep quiet, he was resourceful… He visited us one day out of the blue, and asked me to attune to Zaiphoros--just for a moment. It didn’t do much, but… it told me you were alive, for certain, and I could  _ feel _ where you were--at least, the general direction. When we found that out for sure, we started coming up with a plan to free you. We knew it was gonna take a LOT to get everyone into Eyrien, though… So we decided to get some help.”

Thana goes on for a long time, explaining the plan they came up with, who was involved, why it took them almost a year to make their move, and the sky gets brighter and bluer the more she talks. They eventually move to a bench as more people start walking through the streets, and Rahmi briefly marvels at the mix of people there are living here, but his attention quickly returns to Thana and her story.

It takes her another hour to get through it all, and she lets him know that he’s going to have to ask his friends for more details, but finally she begins to reach the end… Rahmi hasn’t let go of her hand the entire time.

“...Faoric had made me attune to Zaiphoros again before we got there, and while your friends held the line outside, we got in and followed it to you. We couldn’t find you before because the chamber you were in was disguised with magic, but once we found out, it wasn’t that hard to dispel it… And, well, then we got in, and we found you.” Thana takes a deep breath, exhaling hard. “Mama and papa are here, too. We don’t want them going back to Eyrien after that, just in case.”

“And… I’m sorry, Rahmi, but… Some of the killoren  _ did _ have to die. Your friends managed a few surrenders, and some of them decided to give up on their own, but… A few of them wouldn’t.” Thana’s eyes are on the ground, and she looks distraught for a moment. “I knew you would be upset, but we had no choice, not if we wanted to save you.”

“...I understand.” He’s not sure what else to say, his mind so full with everything happening that it’s hard to say anything else. He does comprehend, but it’s impossible to speak, so he just hugs Thana tighter and hides his face in her shoulder. “So it’s… over?”

“Yes. It’s over now.” Thana slowly rubs his back, and Rahmi melts into her. “I’m real, you’re real, and we’re both free. We’re alive. Everything is okay now.”

“It’s real…” Something dawns on him, far too late, and Rahmi sniffles weakly, suppressing a laugh. “...I called Razeiya just ‘Faoric’ to his face. I… I called Florian  _ handsome _ to his face! I said I was in love with them both, oh no…!”

“Lucky for you, you have an excuse for being a little crazy.” Thana pushes him back a bit and grins at him. “You can  _ probably _ pretend you don’t remember, at least for Florian. Faoric’s never gonna forget, though. You’re doomed there.”

“Ugh… I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, unable to keep from smiling. It’s so weird to feel this happy about everything, even about accidentally making an idiot of himself in front of Faoric and Florian, but it feels  _ right _ somehow. He sits up straight, looking to the sky again.

“We’re free,” he whispers, squeezing Thana’s hand.

“We’re free.” She scoots closer to him on the bench, turning her face to the sky. “Forever.”

“Forever…” He smiles.

For the first time in years, nothing hurts. 

Rahmi leans up against his sister and relaxes, and they watch the sky go by without a care in the world.


	6. Eternal Unity - Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to tie off the unfinished question of Rahmi’s place in the world after the fact, and what he’ll do now—because nothing would make him happier than spending the rest of his immortal life with Faoric, love or not.

Some weeks after his rescue, he sits in Razeiya Faoric’s office.

It hasn’t changed much since the last time Rahmi was here--there are more books, maybe, but otherwise, the usual amount of paperwork remains, and devices and scrolls still sit upon the shelves and in the cabinets. Sage is not out at the moment, and Rahmi suspects that either the little tree is simply put away, or that something has changed, too, with the being within it that Faoric used to speak with.

They’re in the middle of talking about dead killoren, now, and Rahmi habitually takes notes--not in his old journal, though it was preserved. The notebook he writes in now is a beautiful sky blue, newly bought for him from a merchant in Vanius by his sister.

Red’s not his favorite color anymore, not after everything he’s been through.

“Rabaian Jodo?”

“Surrendered.”

“Ratheum Loroveth?”

“Dead.”

Rahmi notes them down, frowning slightly. Loroveth was cruel and strange, but not unintelligent. Rahmi had believed that she might have chosen to surrender and live another day… But perhaps her dedication to the cause was greater than her will to live. He can certainly understand that perspective.

“Rahamon Izien?”

“Surrendered.”

Now  _ that’s  _ a surprise. He would have thought Izien would have died rather than surrender… Maybe the others somehow talked her out of it. Even the most stubborn of people can be persuaded with the right words, after all.

“Rashuna Cerul?”

“Dead.”

“Raloam Diulon?”

“Surrendered.”

He nods. He never saw much of either of them, and can’t speak to their characters or strength of will, but it’s not something he wants to investigate now.

“Rajanus Sechariel?”

“Alive. At the behest of Sir Jovault, we made an arrangement with her prior to your rescue, one that benefitted us both. I will note that she was relieved to know that you would not have to continue suffering.”

“Mm.” Sounds like Sechariel. “We spoke a few times while I was inside… I know that you and her have your differences, but I’m glad that she survived it.”

He pauses, hesitating. There’s only one name left on his list, now…

“Rakhan Xult?”

“Dead.” Faoric meets his eyes, and Rahmi tries not to look away--though he doesn’t emote much at the word, there’s a lot of inner turmoil churning inside of him at the thought. Xult was his worst tormentor, and the one who first broke Rahmi deeply… To know that he’s dead is a relief, but also somehow heartbreaking. Faoric can’t read his mind anymore, but Rahmi’s certain that he knows how much torture Xult was responsible for in his prison, at least marginally, and how much Rahmi was affected by him.

He's... going to miss him.

He doesn’t want to think about it right now. Maybe later, when he’s not with Faoric, it will come crashing down on him and he’ll have a panic attack—which has been happening frequently—but not now. Not here in the office.

“That’s everyone accounted for, then...” He closes the notebook, slowly looking around Faoric’s office. It’s a familiar, comfortable place, one he never thought he’d be in again. The grand tree of Rominique is probably a place that should scare him by this point, but somehow it doesn’t. Faoric’s office, in particular, brings him nothing but peace.

His eyes find Faoric’s once more, and he notes that the killoren hasn’t actually looked away since Rahmi spoke. It’s not unusual for him to focus on something, but it  _ is _ unusual for him to focus on Rahmi like this… But then, things are different than they used to be. He doesn’t take offense to it or become troubled, instead simply setting his notebook aside and leaning in a little.

“Is it overstepping my bounds to ask why you’re staring at me, sir?” He offers a half smile, then pushes some hair out of his face shyly. He still hasn’t gotten it cut--a little attached to it now as a comfort after all he’s been through.

“I am merely surprised.” Faoric pauses for a moment, seemingly in thought. “I had not anticipated that you would return to Rominique so soon, and my office even less so. You do not appear troubled as I had believed you might.”

“Nothing could stop me from coming here.” Captivity, at least, has emboldened him, and Rahmi’s feelings no longer choke his words as they used to. “I still love you, after all.”

“I cannot imagine why.” It seems less a tongue-in-cheek retort and more a genuine statement. “There are studies that tell of prisoners forming romantic attachment to their captors, but as I recall, your feelings towards me were in place far before the incident.”

“Yeah. It’s just how I feel… I don’t have a justification for it. I’m just in love with you.” Rahmi stares back at Faoric. He remembers when something like this would have been intimidating, overwhelming, enough to make him cry. Now, he just feels secure. “Is it a problem?”

“No.” Faoric watches him, his expression unchanging. “So long as you are aware that I cannot return your feelings, there is no reason for me to reprimand you.”

“I know you can’t.” Rahmi laughs quietly. “I’ve been aware of that for a long time, but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell you before. Even though I knew that you knew… The idea of actually saying it to you felt like giving up, in some weird way. I guess because I knew you’d reject me, and if I never said anything, I could keep the false hope up in my heart.”

“I see.” Faoric closes his eyes and says nothing more, his hands folded together on the table. Rahmi watches him, letting his eyes linger on Faoric’s face, his lips, his hair… everything. He never allowed himself the luxury of staring before, not unless there was a reason--but now he has time and freedom, two things he thought he might never have to himself again.

“You really are wonderful,” he says quietly. Faoric opens his eyes to give him an exasperated look, and he smiles. “Oh, come on. You know now! Can’t I flatter you  _ just _ a little?”

“I would much prefer you didn’t.” Faoric sighs… and then, the faintest of smiles flickers across his face. “If nothing else, the time away has at least eliminated your hesitation, a quality of yours that I had hoped to train you out of--but your newfound confidence is misused here, Romazi.”

“Oh, it’s not new. I’m like this with Aniqe, too-- Or, well, I used to be, before…” He shakes it off, not wanting to think deeply about ‘before’. “The point is, the only one I was unconfident with was you, and that was because… Well, because I didn’t want to do anything that would make you dismiss me as your knight. I didn’t want to have to leave your side, so I remained respectful. My hesitation came mostly from wanting to be whatever you needed, and never being sure if I was enough.”

“Mm. And this is no longer your desire?”

“That’s…” Rahmi pauses for a moment to think, holding up a hand to Faoric. The killoren doesn’t look away, but Rahmi looks down to his lap. “Just a second. It’s going to take me some time to put this together in my head, and I want to make sure I’m not tripping over my words when I tell you this.”

“Romazi, if you intend to once again ‘confess’ to me…”

“No, I’m being serious now.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. His desire… He’d given up on having any desires while in captivity, but now that he’s free, he can choose what he wants to do. His friends are certainly well off enough, and willing to support him--and Thana, too, has started her own business in tailoring and sewing at long last. She’s offered to give him whatever he needs and provide for him in an attempt to let him relax now that he’s out of his living hell. He’s free to decide what he wants most out of life now… but he’s not entirely sure what that is. Still, he knows one thing that he wants, at least in the moment.

He looks back to Faoric, whose eyes haven’t left him.

“I still want to be at your side. Feelings taken into account, returned or not, I feel at peace when I’m here with you. I know that I’m out of practice by now with swordplay, and that there are probably plenty of other candidates who would be better suited to it than me, but I still want to be your knight. I don’t know if I can be  _ whatever _ you need, but I can at least be some of it.” Rahmi finds that he can’t bring himself to smile, feeling suddenly that he can’t afford to in the moment.

“It’s been so long since I was free that I’m out of touch with the world. There’s so much I don’t know, least of all what I want to be now that I’m free. Even before… I didn’t know what I wanted to be, or if I even had the potential to do anything. But when I became your knight, I felt like I found something irreplaceable… A sense of purpose, and someone to swear my life to.” Rahmi rises from his chair and slowly circles around the desk. Faoric watches him, but his expression doesn’t change.

He kneels beside Faoric’s chair, looking up at him.

“Razeiya, you saved my sister, and you saved me. That was part of our mutual agreement in the past, I think, and I wondered sometimes if you’d ask me to stop serving you once that was done. But even if the terms of that agreement have been completed, I still want to stay. Even more, now that I know what you need to continue on strong and how to provide it.” He bows his head--not out of embarrassment, but out of respect. “Everything I swore on in the past, I would still today. I want to be at your side, no matter what… That’s my desire. So if you’ll still have me as your knight, then it would be my honor to serve you.”

There is silence in Faoric’s office, but Rahmi doesn’t feel nervous. Faoric gave him time to consider what he wanted to say, so it’s only fair that he does the same for Faoric. He closes his eyes, smiling to himself at the familiarity of it all. Rahmi thought he’d never swear an oath like this again after all it’s gotten him, but here he is…

He feels foolish, but happy.

Finally, Faoric shifts--and very lightly, his hand touches Rahmi’s shoulder, like he’s knighting him again.

“You may remain.”

Rahmi’s grin only gets wider. He looks up at Faoric, childish excitement flooding him despite himself.

“To dismiss a willing, trustworthy knight who has already proven his loyalty several times over would be senseless.” Faoric nods, his expression calm. “I cannot say my tasks for you will be interesting, nor can I guarantee that you will never find fault with me as a master. But if your desire is to retake your place at my side, then you may stay for as long as you wish to.”

“Forever,” Rahmi answers without hesitation. He meets Faoric’s eyes. “I’m immortal now, after all, and you are too... So I’ll never leave you, Razeiya. Nothing will ever part us.”

“...Hm. An interesting sentiment.” It seems to give Faoric some pause, like he hadn’t considered Rahmi’s newfound immortality as a factor in his decision. “Very well.”

The killoren removes his hand from Rahmi’s shoulder. The knight slowly rises from his kneel and returns to his own chair on the other side of the desk, taking a seat once more. He looks back at Faoric and finds that the killoren is no longer watching him, having returned to his duties once more.

Rahmi smiles and settles in the chair, continuing to watch Faoric work for a moment.

Forever...

He closes his eyes peacefully and sinks into the chair, happy to finally be back where he belongs.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you actually got all this way and read the whole thing (or even skimmed it), thank you! I appreciate you.


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